Cold
by Quills2
Summary: Fate has delivered Elena into Demon's mercy. Will his pride and cruelty push them apart or push them together? Damon/Elena. Rated M for Adult Content.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Cold**

**Rating: M**

**Synopsis: Fate has delivered Elena to Demon's mercy. Will his pride and cruelty push them apart or push them together? Damon/Elena. Rated M for Adult Content.**

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

It was darkness—swirling, cold, dangerous.

The feeling of Elena Gilbert's flesh ripping against the pressure and pull of gleaming white fangs was experienced very differently from the perspective of the predator and the prey.

For Elena, the pain was distinct, yet far away. The pain was an echo, reverberating down a long, empty hall. She heard herself scream, but it was as if her hands were cupped tightly over her ears. Even still, she languidly pressed her torso upward and against the hips of Damon Salvatore.

'Kill me,' she thought dizzyingly.

For Damon, everything feels quite different. The pleasure was immense—like consuming an intoxicating drug. Her pulse was rapid, like the flutter of wings. It took all the restraint he had to keep from ripping into her neck like a starved animal. He tasted her fear on his tongue and reveled in it. His moan was light but heavy with gratification as he felt her press herself against him, already hard in between her naked thighs.

Her dress was scant—a short 'funeral shroud' of coarse, black cambric. It was nothing of note but it clung to her—accentuating all. Although, she could wear a potato sack and still Damon would have noticed the round curve of her breasts and the creamy softness of her thighs below.

He knew she came for self destruction. Stefan was gone—who knew when he would return? He had to have known that leaving her, helpless, that this could happen. Damon was certain of it. In fact, it was probably expected. Stefan would have been too much of a coward to do it himself had he known. His loss…

Elena writhed underneath Damon, her breathing starting to regulate itself. She heard the snap of his belt buckle and she welcomed it. Her hand slid between them and underneath his pants. She found what she was looking for and she sighed expectantly, waiting for his next move.

Damon's eyes were shut, his face buried into the crook of her neck and she moved her hand up and down him. He felt Elena move her thighs slowly apart and he looked up. She was a goddess, laying on his bed and underneath him. Her dark hair was splayed out on his satin sheets like lace. Her blood was swirling in his mouth, singing its swan song to him. He growled then, a deep and feral moan, that signaled his loss of composure.

She heard as her panties ripped with a loud scream and felt as Damon tugged them away with impatience.

"Yes…" She managed to whimper and closed her eyes.

He entered her then. Suddenly. Completely. Deeply. Her eyes snapped open and her mouth was agape. Damon moved away from her neck and lifted his head to look down at her. He moved slowly, deliberately. He filled her up entirely and then withdrew enough until she was whimpering and moving her hips upward to meet him. His eyes darkened, changed. He pulled her hands above her head and anchored them in place with his own. He kissed viciously, not attempting to sheath his razor fangs against her soft mouth. No. He wanted her blood, her pain, her pleasure. He moved faster, harder. Again. Again. Again. She was moaning now and her breathing was beginning to hitch. He stopped suddenly and put his hand under her chin and snapped her face to his.

"You belong to me now."

"Don't stop, Damon…"

"Look at me."

Elena opened her eyes, a confused look of ache and pleasure were crossing her features.

"Elena, you belong to me now."

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I belong to you, Damon. Only you."

He smirked and began to thrust into Elena again and brought her to a fevered pitch where she was begging him. And then all at once, a rush filled her and satisfaction flooded her veins so violently that she shuddered and moaned out Damon's name and to God. And this in itself signaled Damon's own release that he had been holding back. He buried his face into her neck and moaned out Elena's name, and to God. He brought his wrist to his mouth and bit it suddenly, his dark blood sliding down his arm. He pressed it to Elena's mouth and demanded that she drink.

Elena weakly grabbed Damon's hand and pulled his wrist to her lips. She drank slowly at first and then with much more fervor—sucking down his blood hungrily, greedily and welcoming the end of her life. She slowed again, feeling Damon tense from his blood loss and finally, she kissed his wrist before pushing it away.

"I'm ready," she said weakly.

Damon sat up and looked down at her.

"I'm just," he paused, "…close your eyes."

Elena did as she was instructed.

Damon pressed his lips to hers and kissed her. It was different this time. It was soft, undemanding and yet full of expectation. His hand cupped the side of her face for a long moment and drunk in her features with his intense gaze. He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her temple.

Damon then slowly slid his hand to her throat and pressed on her windpipe.

"Shhhhh," he whispered. "Go to sleep….go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

Elena tried to breathe but couldn't. Instinct told her to scream and thrash but she did not move. Reality began to fade, sound began to distort. Damon's voice became farther and farther way. And then she was dreaming. It was as if she was driving down a fast highway and lights were flying by her. She heard her mother's voice calling her…and then there was nothing at all.

Damon had held Elena's throat until she turned red and then pale and held it tighter as the body's natural instinct was to struggle for life in its final moments. He held his hand there, tightly, until he no longer felt her heartbeat. He stared down at her then. She held a sated look still that was now mingling with death. It was beauty.


	2. Awakening

She woke.

His eyes were steel until the first moment she opened hers. Then, in a blink, it was gone. His tense body relaxed enough and his eyes were now twin pools of a placid blue expanse. Still, he did not move. His stance was casual as he leaned against the wall in front of the bed--yet his hands were balled into fists. His voice was butterscotch.

"Elena?"

Elena's eyes went from unresponsive to focused in the matter of a split second. She looked down at herself and saw her dress, from neck to navel, was soaked in blood. The pain in her throat was now a pleasant throb. Her fingers moved over the wound--a large mass of torn flesh--and she felt the tiny movement of her arteries, ligaments and tissue repairing under her touch until it there was nothing but pristine cool flesh. She looked at Damon with new, feral eyes.

"I'm dead," she asked.

"No," he said calmly, "You're finally alive."

Elena looked about the room. It was as if everything was humming. Her entire body was wrapped in these new senses. Her eye sight was keen. The room was blanketed in darkness but she could see as clear as day. Her sense of smell was strong. She knew that there was a tiny mouse in the walls. She could hear his heartbeat, smell his blood, hear him scratching and moving about his daily business. Everything was washing over her at once and it was overwhelming and then...

Elena giggled lightly. She covered her mouth trying to stifle herself. But she couldn't help it and soon she was in a fit of uncontrolable laughter. She pressed herself deep into the bed and curled her toes into the satin. She knew Damon was watching her every move. He made no attempt to quiet her nor come near her. She finally stopepd and propped herself up against the pillows.

"Am I a zoo animal?"

"Come again?"

"Well, you're just standing there watching me. Like I'm a zoo animal."

Damon walked to a nearby table and grabbed a candelabra. He lit the wicks of the three candles, already melted down a part of the way, and set it on the nightstand near the bed. He moved with the stealth of a snake and was on top of her. He grabbed her chin and studied her. He yanked her head to the side and looked at where his teeth had sunk into not long before. The glow of the candle flickered all along her skin and cast golden shadows along the room.

"Well," He said finally, "You're my pet. So that's close enough."

He saw the look of indignation that crossed her features and he smirked. He kissed her, hard, on the mouth before moving off of her. He stood and looked down at her for a moment, thinking.

Before Elena could make anything of the situation, Damon grabbed her swiftly, and threw her over his shoulder. He pushed open an adjoining door with his foot before setting Elena in front of him. The tile is cold and Elena feels herself shiver more from human instinct than anything else.

"Lift your hands," he demanded.

She complied.

Damon's eyes watched hers as he ran his hand up her thigh and grabbed a fist full of her dress. He lifted the soaked "shroud" and tossed it the wastebasket. Elena's blood was smeared against her skin like paint. Damon stood back and appraised her like an prize. Her skin was pale like ivory and as smooth as china. She was unblemished, flawless. His eyes drifted from her breasts--soft with nipples like hard pink rosebuds, to her flat stomach which would now never bear a child in its womb, to the cleft in between her legs where he had just been. Elena wasn't sure if she should cover herself from Damon's objectification or...

Damon noticed as she lifted her head slightly, proudly. He nodded.

"Good," He said finally. "No point in acting like I haven't already fucked you."

He moved in front of her. His arm circled around her waist and he roughly hoisted her against him. He breathed in her scent--lavender, lemon oil...death. It was intoxicating. Damon dipped his head to her collarbone and ran his tongue along her skin, her blood.

Elena shut her eyes.

"You'll never taste like _that_ again," he remarked aloud.

"Taste like what?" Elena asked.

He did not answer.

Damon moved away from her then and to a large copper tub behind her. He turned the knob and said nothing as the hot water poured into the tub, filling the room with steam. And in a strange moment of tenderness, he led her to the tub and shut off the water.

Elena sunk in and reclined, shutting her eyes. The heat of the water against her cold lifeless skin sent unexplainable tingles up her spine. Damon sat on a bench beside her. He dipped a sea sponge in the water and rubbed her skin. The water was tinged pink now. He ran the sponge along her neck and slowly moved to her collar bone. He made small circles over her skin. He moved towards her breasts and down her stomach. Elena's eyes opened, half lidded, as his hands drifted over her lower abdomen and stayed. She became restless when he concentrated his efforts there and did not move. Small circles over her flesh, and making no attempt to move lower still. Elena sighed.

Damon stopped and put the sponge down. He poured shampoo into his palm and slowly massaged it into Elena's scalp. It smelled of honeydew and vanilla. It was imported from a small and expensive perfumery shop Grasse, France, and Damon had a fondness for it. His hands moved gingerly, with the attention and care of a devout lover. He watched her intensely, as if expecting something to happen. The water had turned cool before Damon pulled Elena from the bath & wrapped her into a terrycloth robe. He set out a black silk chemise on the bed for her and move to a decanter on his dresser to pour himself a large glass of bourbon.

After Elena slid into her chemise, Damon took a large drink and turned to her.

"I imagine you must be starving now..." He mused.

Elena hadn't thought about what that would entail until that very moment. And it was ice in her veins. Kill. She would have to kill. She said nothing and kept her gaze away.

Damon let out a dry laugh. And grabbed the candleabra from his nightstand, now short stubs of wax and wick.

"Come here," he demanded, walking out of the room.

The Salvatore Boarding House was quiet. The wind was howling outside but inside it was like a mausoleum. Damon moved with the stealth and grace of a cat. He walked down the stone steps that led into the basement. He could feel Elena's reluctance despite her putting up a brave facade. She soon found herself in an area of the basement that was what nightmares were made of--dark, solitary, frightening. It was a dungeon. Damon opened a large oak door. It was large and with a small, centered window that was secured with bars...like a prison. With a gesture of his head, Elena walked into the small room and froze.

It was a man, chained to the wall. He couldnt have been much older than Elena. His back was propped in the corner and his head was hanging like a tether ball. Elena's eyes widened. She rushed to him and knelt at his side. She knew quickly that he was only unconscious. She turned and looked up at Damon swiftly.

"What are doing?"

"Did you want me to ring a dinner bell?" He asked dryly.

"What? I'm not going to...I'm not going to kill him, Damon," Elena said.

"You will."

"No. I won't. I'm not a killer."

"Spare me the martyr act." He moved towards her, ignorning the unconscious man as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

"It's in your blood now. We are animals, Elena--"

"--No."

Damon nudged the man with his foot. The man moaned and roused himself. He looked up at Elena and Damon through slitted eyes and then bowed his head, cradling it in his hands in pain.

"Where am I?" He asked weakly.

Damon rolled his eyes and looked back at Elena.

"He's a murderer." He said finally.

"What?" Elena asked.

The man slowly raised his head up. Yes, they were speaking about him, he realized.

"I'm not--"

Damon raised his hand to silence the man.

"His name is Gabriel Shultz. 26 years old. Registered sex offender."

"What," asked the man.

Elena shook her head. "You're lying."

Damon shrugged his shoulders. "Go look it up for yourself. He's a pedophile, Elena. He kidnapped and attacked an 8 year old girl. But because Daddy has big pockets, he got off with not even a slap on the wrists."

Elena looked down at the man, confused.

"Who are you people," the man asked, his voice shaking.

"What you won't find on the database," Damon continued, "is that he also killed an 11 year old girl. He plucked her right from her bus stop. He had his fun and in the middle of it, he choked her to death and dumped her body in a shallow grave on his family's property."

The man had renewed strength and lunged suddenly but was snapped back by the arm shackles. He tried to kick at Damon who moved to the side lazily. The man's face was red now. He was screaming. And Damon was screaming above him.

"Do you want me to let him go," he screamed. "Tell me! I'll turn him loose on the streets so he can cruise near the school."

"I'll kill you," the man was rabid. "I'll kill _you!_"

"Do you think he cares--"

"Let me go! This man is crazy, lady! Let me go--"

"Do you think he will just STOP--"

Elena felt caged. Their voices were deafening. She was confused. She looked back and forth and back and forth. And then...

"They asked for it," the man screamed. "Everyone one of those little bitches asked for it!"

Then, before she even realized what was happening...

Damon saw Elena's eyes darken suddenly and then she pounced on the man. She straddled him and held him, almost as if she was embracing him. Yet she sunk her teeth viciously into his neck and the spray of blood spurt into her mouth. And the man's screams echoed along the stone walls. Damon closed his eyes, living vicariously through what he had seen. The man's screams were like a symphony to his ears. Elena drank greedily. This man's blood was wonderful, nourishing. It was thick and warm and it slid down her throat like cream. His scream turned into a lovely gurgle and finally he took his last delicious struggled breath before meeting death. Elena held onto the man, her teeth still plunged into his neck. She wrapped her arms tighter around the man's dead body and moved to rest her head against his sagging shoulder. She was crying now. His blood still danced on her tongue and was dripping down her chin and onto her chest, her new chemise. Damon came behind her now and unwrapped her from the man. He set her on her feet.

"Was that so bad?" Damon smiled.

"He never hurt anyone," Elena said finally, not looking at him.

Damon said nothing to discredit her claim.

"You compelled him to say those last words...I could taste it," She said softly.

"You're going to have to learn to toughen yourself," Damon said cooly. "Kill or be killed. He was one man in a mass of billions. Maybe I compelled him. Maybe I didn't. If I did, it was for you. Now go upstairs and wash up. You made a mess all over yourself."

Elena moved mechanically, robotically.

Damon watched her move up the stairs. His gaze softened.

One day she would thank him. Of that he was certain.


	3. Turmoil

_A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews, I truly appreciate it. Your words mean much :)_

* * *

Two days later.

It was nearly dawn and Elena could feel her hunger ebbing to the surface. But she disregarded it with a proverbial swat of the hand. The man that she had fed on had nourished her this long. It filled her with a sense of revulsion because she had enjoyed her kill. She enjoyed the taste of the man's thick blood filling her mouth and strengthening her like an elixir. She tasted the terror in him and it was almost…_exciting_. But she didn't want to be a killer. She didn't want to lose all of herself when she became a vampire. She wasn't trying to martyr herself like Damon said. No. She just didn't want to hurt people. She knew what it was like to lose a loved one. And that hurt worst of all. What if that man had a daughter waiting at home? Elena shuddered and sighed. She was lying in her bed at the Salvatore Boarding House. Well, it wasn't truly her bed just as much as this wasn't in her room. After she left the basement she found an uninhabited room on the far corner of the 2nd floor. It was lovely if sparsely furnished. Her bed was large—much larger than she had need for. It was a four poster king sized bed. The frame was massive and made of a dark wood, American Black Walnut. It had ornate carvings in each poster depicting the Greek God of sleep—Hypnos and his brother, the Greek God of Death—Thanatos, embraced in their lair—and the outside of it surrounded by a flora and fauna. Elena slowly lifted her arm and brought her fingertips to the wood and lazily traced the figures over and over.

"I bought it in Greece."

Elena jumped, startled.

Damon always found a way of coming upon her undetected. Elena feigned as if she knew he was there. She turned slowly to him and propped her pillows underneath her head.

"You were in Greece," she asked.

"Mmmhmm," he crossed his hands, watching her, and said nothing more.

She could get lost in his stare. His eyes were hypnotic cerulean jewels that entranced her like a child to sweets. She didn't know how long she gazed at him but she knew it had been for an abnormally long moment.

Damon smirked.

"It'll be morning soon," she said, almost like a question.

"Right."

"I can't go out in the sunlight…"

"No." He sighed, seemingly uninterested.

"When can I?"

"When can you what?"

"Go outside in the day."

"You can go whenever you please. I'm not stopping you. Just know that you'll turn into some delicious beef jerky when you do." He raised his brows in mock surprise.

"Damon!"

"What?"

"Well…you get to go out in the day…why can't I?"

"Because I have a ring, Elena. Quit acting stupid. You already know this."

"Well, I just thought that maybe you had one for me."

Damon smiled and walked towards her. He touched the side of her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, he plopped down on the bed beside her and pulled her into his lap. He kissed her temple and looked down at her.

"I don't have a ring for you," he said finally.

"So…what? I get to be a stuck inside while you get to prance out in the sunlight?"

"Don't get feisty. I said _I _don't have a ring for you. That doesn't mean there is a ring for you."

Elena said nothing as she waited for him to continue.

"All we have to do," he purred, "is get the ring from my darling baby brother."

Elena looked away.

Damon watched her like a hungry lion, waiting to find a weak antelope in the herd.

"We," she said softly, "don't even know where he is. He might not ever come back."

"Don't be naïve. I've always known where he was. He'll be back. Sooner than you think."

If Elena's heart could hammer in her chest, it would have at that moment.

_Stefan…_

Her eyes softened as his image, an image she tried to forget, flickered and then burned brightly in her mind. Her smile was hadn't quite met her lips when…

Damon grabbed Elena's chin painfully and yanked her face up to his. His eyes searched hers for a moment and he wrenched his hands away from her face and threw her off his lap.

"Damon," Elena called, startled.

He walked towards the door and turned suddenly.

"Don't you ever forget the words you said before you were turned."

And with that, he stalked from the room.

Elena rushed to the door and called after Damon but he was gone. The sun was already rising and Elena was resigned to spending another day alone in the Salvatore Boarding House. She longed for her friends—for Bonnie, for Caroline, for Matt. She longed for her family—Jenna and Jeremy. Elena ran her hands over her face. Her hunger was beginning to rise within her again and she forced the feeling down as best she could. So far her best defense was sleep. So she crawled back into bed and pulled the covers to her chin. She turned and looked at her bed post again. Her fingers traced over the image of Thanatos again and again until the darkness of sleep took hold and pulled her under.

She dreamt of Damon. She dreamt of his lips tracing invisible patterns all over her body. She dreamt of his fangs dragging across her skin. She dreamt of blood. She dreamt of it blooming like a flower out of a soft neck. She dreamt of drinking it like a never ending silky ribbon of wine…

"You can let her go now, Elena." His voice was soft. "There's nothing left."

Elena's eyes snapped open. In her arms was warmth. Her teeth were sunk deep into a neck…an innocent neck. She sheathed her fangs instantly and she pushed the body, with ease, away from her. Her hand flew to her blood stained mouth as she looked down at the dead woman at her feet. She was thin and pale—almost grey now, with all blood drained from her body. Elena let out an ear piercing scream as Damon stood motionless near the doorway. They were in the foyer of the house. Blood was splattered across the floor in fantastic smears and mist. She rushed to the woman and stupidly pulled her in sitting position. The woman's head lolled crazily against her shoulder. Elena moved her ear to the woman's heart, as if she didn't already know…

Damon grabbed Elena by her arm and pulled her swiftly from the body.

"Goddamnit, Elena! Stop it. She's gone."

Elena was crying now and she pushed Damon, though he did not move.

"Why did you bring her?" She screamed, pushing him again in vain.

Damon grabbed her wrists and brought her close to his face.

"Control yourself. I didn't have anything to do with this."

"Don't--"

"Stop. Now." He demanded.

Elena sniffled noisily.

"I came home and I found you already on her. But you were out of it…like…dreaming. You couldn't have gone out to get her. It's still light out. She must have wandered in. Her car is in the drive. Do you remember what happened?"

Elena sighed and thought hard but nothing was coming to her. She shook her head slowly.

"I didn't think it would be like this..." She whispered.

"Like what?"

Elena looked up at him.

"Look around, Damon. Have you done this so long that you forgot what it was like to have remorse?"

"No. I just don't care." He sighed and ran his hands over his face.

"She didn't deserve…" She trailed off.

"You knew the price, Elena." He said finally.

"What?"

He raised his hands to either side of her head and leaned forward to look her at eye level.

"What did you think would happen? That I would break into blood banks for you to spare you frail psyche? You know what I am. You've always known. I was never going to spare you. I won't."

She tried to turn away but his grip was firm.

"No. Listen to me. How quickly you forget why you came to me."

Elena stared.

"You can't fool me, Elena. I _know_."

Elena jerked away violently, freeing herself from him. She slid on the blood as she began to run towards the door. She threw it open, the sun hitting her with all its brightness and she screamed. It burned more viciously than she anticipated. But before she could retreat like a coward or before she could run forward and reach the porch like a warrior, Damon covered her with his body and pulled her back into the house. He slammed the door with such force that the wood snapped down the middle.

Elena was crying in pain—physical and mental. She sobbed openly as Damon stood, watching her.

Damon's mind twisted in many different ways. Anger. Fear. Jealousy. And…

Damon's hand slowly slid to Elena's back and he crushed her softly in his embrace.

"Shhh," he kissed the top of her head. Her singed hair was beginning to repair itself back to its shiny luster.

"Honey," he whispered, "I knew you had cancer."


	4. Diagnosis

Cancer.

Hearing the word made Elena feel weak and ill all over again. It all started with the tiniest of headaches. It was barely perceptible—it was an annoyance more than anything. She attributed it to heat, to stress, to allergies to anything and everything but a brain tumor. And then came the changes in her personality. Everyone credited it to Stefan leaving town. _"Poor thing,"_ they said. She became wild, reckless, angry. This wasn't the Elena that everyone knew. She wasn't soft spoken, considerate and kind anymore. She began to act out. Elena recalled an incident she had with Bonnie…

* * *

_"Elena, this is getting out of hand. You need help…"_

_Elena turned and stared blankly at Bonnie before bursting into laughter. She cradled the bottle of vodka that was positioned in between her legs. She lifted it to her lips and took another swig—feeling it burn down her throat and into the pit of her stomach. She put the bottle on her bed side table._

_"I'm sorry, Bon, really. But you're being ridiculous."_

_"Am I," Bonnie snapped, her tone tinged with annoyance._

_"You are. And its getting really old. I mean, get a hobby. I don't need a babysitter."_

_"Yeah, well—You don't need a sitter & I don't need a drunk slut for a best friend either." She stood suddenly and ran from the room._

_Elena listened as her feet pounded down the stairs. She heard the jingle of her keys as she grabbed her purse and she waited for—_

_Bonnie slammed the door._

_Elena shrugged and laid back._

_'Drunk slut,' she thought. 'Whatever.'_

_It wasn't until two months later, when she had a seizure in home room, did she get to see a doctor. And it was then that she first heard the words Glioblastoma multiforme…followed by the words malignant and inoperable. Her world, what was left of it, collapsed. She had sat numbly in a chair beside Jenna who was quietly crying. The doctor droned on and on about their options—about the aggressive treatment she could undergo to prolong her life for a few months or how they could do nothing at all and let nature take its course. Nature! There was nothing natural about this. She wasn't ready to go. Not like this. She wanted to see the world. She wanted to experience life outside Mystic Falls. She wanted to get married and have children. None of this was going to happen now. It wasn't in the cards for her. She had locked herself in her room for two days until it hit her. It was like a bolt of lightning just stuck her, and she sat up in bed. _

_"No, no, no" she thought rapidly, "That's crazy."_

_…but…was it?_

_She hadn't gone over every detail but yes...she didn't have to die. _

_"Stefan," she had whispered. "Come back."_

_But it was clear; even then, Stefan would come back after what happened. And so her mind locked onto Damon. Damon… with his sardonic smirk and blue eyes—with his zest for darkness and cruelty. He was the epitome of danger. But she didn't care. True, her plan was concocted with a damaged mine, but it didn't matter. She was sure that this was the right choice…the only choice._

_And so a week later, she waited for the right moment before putting her plan into action. _

_Jenna leaned over Elena's bed and smoothed her hair. She kissed her forehead, her eyes were glassy. Her eyes had been in a perpetual state of puffiness since they had received the news. Elena wondered how she had any tears left._

_"Everything is going to be okay, Aunt Jenna," she whispered._

_Jenna kissed her forehead and gave a half laugh._

_"You shouldn't be comforting me." She kissed Elena's forehead and put her hand on her shoulder._

_"Try and get some rest," she said._

_ "You first," Elena smiled softly._

_Jenna turned off the light and walked from the room. _

_Elena lay very still. She listened to Jenna's footsteps fade away as she went into her own room. She waited still until she was sure both she and Jeremy were fast asleep. She pulled the covers off of herself quickly. She was already wearing a thin black dress. She pulled her ponytail loose and let her fall passed her shoulders. She pulled out a letter from her dresser. She set it on her bed. She rested her palm over it for a moment, the paper lightly crackling with pressure. She sighed and went into her closet and grabbed a bottle of vodka from her hatbox. She took generous gulps before grabbing a pair of flats and slipping out of the window._

_Damon felt her presence even before she knocked. Elena and he were not close with good reason. They were oil and water. They did not mesh. And yet, there was always some sort of animalistic pull that they felt whenever they were together. He resented her. She was nothing like Katherine and yet she was everything like her. Her love for Stefan was sickening. It was a waste. A tragedy. He loathed weakness and he continually found it all over her. And yet, there she was, knocking on his door. He didn't bother to answer. Instead he poured himself a glass of whiskey and settled onto his chaise. The whiskey was exquisite—it was dark, sweet and warm. He imagined her blood was much of the same. Her footsteps were quiet as she walked to his bedroom door. Her knock was light, nervous. She pushed open the door when she heard no response._

_ "Why, do come in," Damon said sarcastically._

_ "I knocked…" She said, putting her purse down._

_ He knew she was sick. He had watched her often. He knew the same day that she did. He saw her leaving the hospital and it didn't take long, with the help of compelling her doctor, to find out what was wrong. Yet he did nothing. He had sat around for days, morose, mulling over Elena. He was already mourning her and she wasn't even dead yet._

_Yet here she was, standing in front of him. But for what? That was the question. Then it hit him, like a ton of bricks. Her scent. It was sweet, beautiful as it always was…but there was something else. It was frightening. He could smell the death , it clung to her like an asp. He knew it was because of what was festering inside her. He stood suddenly and walked towards her. He lifted her chin to look at him._

_ "Why are you here," he asked softly._

_ Elena felt uncomfortable under his gaze and she moved her head away and crossed the room._

_ "I have a favor to ask," she said._

_ "Ha. Of course you do." He said finally. _

_ Elena said nothing and sat on the edge of his bed._

_ "So what have you been up to," she asked casually. _

_ "Really? Are we going to play that game?" He asked._

_ "What game?"_

_ "Nothing," he sighed. "What have I been up to…hmm…oh you know, the usual. Killing babies and causing havoc among the lovely patrons of Mystic Falls."_

_ Elena rolled her eyes._

_ Damon lounged back again on his chaise and folded his hands behind his head._

_ "So…this favor…do tell."_

_ Elena wagered on what to do next. _

_ "I cant just blurt it out," she panicked. And before she knew what she was doing, she walked over to Damon and was standing beside him. She looked down at him._

_ He watched as the inner turmoil she was experiencing affected her features. What did this little girl want now? Stefan, maybe? To beg him to track his baby brother down? He began to roll his eyes…and stopped mid-roll as her hand reached out and she touched the side of his face. It was just the tips of her fingers, but they carried an intense electric current as it slid across his jaw and then up towards his lips. Her fingers ever so softly traced and Damon's first instinct was to bite down on her hand and feast… _

_ He did not move. Elena moved down and straddled him. Still he did not move. Elena's hand slid over the side of his face while she dipped her mouth to his neck. She bit it lightly and felt him tense. She moved down his body, kissing him over his shirt until she got to his waist. Her fingers glided over his belt. He grabbed her hand suddenly in a vicious grip that was so painful that Elena cried out. He yanked her up his body, to eye level._

_ "What are you doing," he asked._

_ Elena yanked her arm away suddenly and stood up. She walked across the room._

_ "I don't know," she said quickly._

_ "You don't know," Damon repeated. _

_ He laughed and situated his belt buckle and stood._

_ "You don't know. And yet you were more the willing to offer yourself up like some whore? You must want something real bad."_

_ Elena turned suddenly, her eyes widened._

_ "How dare you."_

_ "No, Elena. You're in my house. Don't try and fucking play me like some high school boy. What do you want?"_

_ She held her breath._

_ "I want you to turn me," She said finally._

_ Damon's heart leapt into his throat. Turn her. He knew this must be her last option but he didn't care. Turn her. He would finally be able to taste the blood that sung to him every time she was in his presence. He would finally be able to drink the wine that drove his brother away. The thought was arousing, dangerous._

_ "Why would I do that," He asked dryly. _

_ "Because…" Elena drifted off._

_ "What a wonderful reason. I'm bored."_

_ "Why wouldn't you want to turn me?" She asked suddenly, walking towards him._

_ "I've seen how you look at me. I know that you've wanted me from the first moment you saw me..."_

_ "I don't see you," he said cooly. "I see Katherine."_

_ It was as if he punched her in the stomach._

_ She was paralyzed for a moment before she barely nodded. _

_ "This was a mistake," she rasped and retreated towards the door._

_ Damon moved in a flash to block her exit. He crossed his arms._

_ "Beg," he purred._

_ "What? No, you're disgusting."_

_ Damon laughed cruelly._

_ "So disgusting that you put yourself on a platter for me a second ago?" _

_ Elena reared back and slapped him. The sound was like a whip cracking through silence. Elena saw how his features briefly contorted as he momentarily lost his composure. He grabbed her and pressed her into the wall, his hand snugly at her throat._

_ "Save your pride," he said. "Tell me the truth of why you want me to turn you and I'll do it."_

_ Truth? Lie? Truth? Lie?_

_ "There is nothing for me," she said quickly. "These people, this life. There is nothing for me. I don't want to grow old and whither. Its like a flower—I sprout, I bloom and then the petals fall away and then Im nothing—Im gone. And I know there is something between us. I can feel it. Its like a magnet. I don't want to keep away anymore. I'll be yours…forever."_

_ "You'll be mine," he humored her._

_ "Yes, Damon. Just please…do it now." _

_ She craned her neck, offering it to him._

_ She waited and he did nothing, instead he stared down at her strangely._

_ "What are you waiting for," she asked. And after a beat…"Will it…hurt?"_

_ "Like hell," he said, moving away. "But I asked for the truth. You can see yourself out."_

_ Elena's heart sank. This was happening all wrong…she only had one more thing up her sleeve. She moved to her bag quickly and brought out a paring knife._

_ "What are you doing," he laughed, undaunted. _

_ His laugher died away quickly when she lifted the knife up to herself and slid it across her neck. She whimpered as she did so, and then the knife clattered to the floor. Blood was beginning to seep down her neck._

_ "Turn me or I'm dead," she muttered, losing her balance._

_ "Goddamnit, Elena," he rushed to her and gathered her in his arms. _

_He had planned to toy with her for a while longer but she put a wrench in his plans. The scent of her blood was overwhelming as he carried her to his bed. He moved over her and looked at her. She was dying. The blood was trickling from her neck and if he didn't move soon she would be gone. He dipped his head to her neck and tasted her blood. Words couldn't describe the euphoria. He was shaking. It was as if being on the very edge of an orgasm—it was intense, beautiful and exhilarating. He felt himself grow hard in between her thighs._

_"Jesus," he hissed._

_She was dying and it was the most thrilling and exciting feeling he had ever encountered. He tangled one hand up in her hair and sunk his teeth into her neck…_

* * *

"So you knew the entire time?"

"Yes."

"And you just…let me make a fool of myself?"

"I didn't let you do anything."

Elena said nothing and only sighed.

"This isn't some idiotic little fairytale, Elena. Hey—look at me?"

Elena's eyes drifted from the body of the dead woman to the calming eyes of Damon.

"This isn't a fairytale," he repeated. "I'm not your Prince Charming and this isn't going to be happily ever after."

Elena shut her eyes.

"Elena," he said softly. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes and held back fresh tears.

"But," he said. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. I protect what's mine. Remember that."

He looked down at the dead body. Who was this woman and why was she here?

"Go clean up," he said. "I'll take care of this."

Elena felt drained, defeated. She moved from Damon and began to walk away.

He came up behind her suddenly and turned her around.

He kissed her, hard, on the mouth. His eyes searched her for a long moment until he was satisfied he wouldn't find what he was looking for. He then turned her back around and nudged her up the stairs.


	5. Ice & Fire

They were settled on a bearskin rug beside the fireplace. It was fall and there was a crisp coolness to the air so Elena requested that Damon light a fire. He had sighed and rolled his eyes but soon the library was filled with a cheery flame cracking in the hearth.

Elena sat with her legs out in front of her and her body leaned back on her arm, bracing her weight. She wore a scant, thigh length Grecian lavender dress. Damon had packages delivered to her almost daily with clothing, jewelry, and random knickknacks. She stared blindly into the fire while her hand absently ran through Damon's hair. Damon's head was resting in her lap while his legs were stretched out in front of them.

"I'm taking you out tonight," he said casually.

Elena's attention diverted quickly and she looked down at Damon. His eyes were still closed and his expression was passive.

"Me? Tonight," she asked, trying to keep the excitement from her voice.

"Mmhmm."

It had been four weeks since Elena had been turned into a vampire. It had been four weeks since Elena had last been anywhere beyond the Salvatore Boarding House. She had grown increasingly restless and suspected cabin fever. Elena had continued to feed during her peculiar sleeping spells. In turn she had developed panic attacks and tried to stave off sleep as long as possible.

Damon was curious as to how random bodies would be found across the property. He tried lurking in the shadows and standing guard over Elena but nothing ever happened. It wasn't until he left into town that these occurrences took place. He was skeptical at first to Elena's claim of having no knowledge of the incident. But after seeing her manic state as of late, he actually had come to believe her. It worried him. But he didn't show it. Though, he intended to find out what exactly was going on. His thoughts were cut short when…

"Well…where are we going?"

Damon smirked, his eyes still closed.

"Its your debut back into society."

He opened his eyes as she stared back at him dumbly.

Damon sighed and sat up. He stroked the side of her face as he spoke.

"Well thanks to your little letter, everyone thinks you ran away. You'll say you went to a holistic healing retreat. You went to seek alternative medicine. And," he gasped, "it worked ! Hallelujah."

Elena looked away, working the scenario in her mind.

"What about school?"

"What about it?"

"Well…what do I do about school?"

"Do what many of your peers will be doing by the end of the semester—drop out."

"Drop out?!" The idea was inconceivable.

"Elena," Damon said dryly. "Are you kidding me? You missed a month of school. You can't go into daylight. Take your GED if you're so interested in finishing. It's really irrelevant when you think about it in the grand scheme of things. I mean, what are you going to do with your degree? Go to _college _& work at a Fortune 500 Company? Give me a break. What the point of you having a brain if you never bother to use it? Christ."

Elena moved away from Damon and stood.

"What now?"

Elena walked towards the fire and pushed her palms towards the warmth. Her back was turned to Damon as she spoke.

"Why are you always so cold to me?" She asked.

He said nothing and that was enough encouragement to continue.

"Most of the time you treat me like I'm nothing. Less than nothing. You have me stuck here at the house and I'm virtually a prisoner. You don't even seem to like me half the time. You're like ice. You don't care who you hurt and how. You don't have a conscience to understand right from wrong. And I'm wondering why you even bothered to turn me…"

Damon said nothing but stood. He walked up to Elena until her back was pressed against him. He moved her hair softly from her neck and leaned into her ear while his hand slid underneath her arm and over her throat in a possessive manner.

"I turned you because I pitied you."

His words chilled in her veins as he softly kissed her ear lobe.

"I turned you because I was bored."

She turned to move away but he stilled her against him.

"I turned you because I wanted to see if I could turn a cherry blossom into a ragweed," he whispered with amusement in his voice. "Do you want me to say its because I love you? Lets not have illusions here, Elena. I know I was your dead last option. No pun intended. Otherwise you wouldn't have come close to my front steps, let alone come inside my house. You were a coward who couldn't bear the thought of death. So you came to sell your soul for the price of eternity. Do you think I don't see you when you think I'm not watching? Do you think I don't know who you waste the day daydreaming about?"

Elena felt a fury that she had never known before. How dare he say these things and try to demean her? How dare he presume to know anything that crossed her mind? He treated her like a dog—an amusement, a pet. She was suddenly disgusted. She felt a violence that made her shake. It was bubbling to the surface, begging to erupt. And then…

Elena turned her body swiftly around to him and she kneed him in the groin.

Damon grunted in pain and doubled over.

"Now I see why Katherine ran from you," Elena spat. "Because nevermind your conscience! You don't even have a heart, you don't have a soul."

She began to run from the room. Damon recovered quickly, stumbling towards forward. He grabbed at her leg as he did so, bringing them both to the ground. Elena kicked him in the face and he yelled out and grabbed blindly at her, catching her dress in his hands. It ripped and gave him leverage to grab her knees and pulling her to him, underneath him. Her hands were wild and she scratched at his face and tried to bite his shoulder. Damon pinned her down.

"I hate you," she said passionately.

"Say it like you mean it," he teased. His eyes were lethal.

She struggled underneath him, trying to lift her torso to create enough give to shove him off of her. But he did not budge.

"I hate you so much," she said again. She stared him daggers, imagining herself clawing him like a tiger to its prey.

They moved at the same time, they're mouths colliding into one another—claiming, attempting dominance. His mouth was hot and demanding. His tongue swept around hers almost daring her to deliver something better. She was unyielding. She wrenched her arms out from under him and threaded her fingers in his hair, pulling at it roughly as she slid her tongue along his lips and suddenly bit down on his tongue. Damon hissed in pain and tore his mouth away. He looked down at her as she looked up at him, their mouths filled with blood. He growled low and ripped at her dress, tearing it to ribbons. She ripped at his shirt, buttons skittering across the room before she threw it away from them. Her smooth skin peaked out in between shreds of ripped lavender gossamer. He didn't want to give her any time to think of anyone else or anything else but this moment. He demanded all of her. They fed off of each other, a dark sweet blood that although provided no sustenance, was pleasing to the taste. Elena shrugged off what was left of her dress as Damon unbuckled and discarded his pants. Elena moved up to touch him but he pressed her back down to the floor. He glided down her body then, teeth raking over hot skin. And when his mouth came in between her legs, she lost all coherent thoughts. It was only Damon--Damon whose tongue was lapping at her slowly, deliberately. Damon's fingers that slid inside her and found her wet and wanting. She was moaning almost like a kitten with her head thrown back and her back arched. She said his name over and over…and he smiled, smugly, into her and then moved. He put her legs on either side of her shoulders and entered her then. Her moan was became deep, primal, as was his. His pace was slow at first, building a fire inside of her. She pulled his head down towards her, claiming his mouth and murmuring encouragement. Her nails raked down his back, leaving a bloody wake as his thrusts increased. Harder. Faster. She was coming undone. She was embraced in nothing but sheer pleasure and it was all because of Damon. He could feel himself losing composure. Words couldn't adequately express how it felt being inside of her. So tight, so warm, and all of it was his. And then suddenly she moved and was on top of him, riding him. That's when he lost it. He grabbed her hips and guided her down on him again and again and again.

"Elena…" He groaned. "Fuck…"

He reached down in between their joined bodies, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles over her rosebud bundle of flesh. And it was like an avalanche. It was unstoppable. The build was almost too much to bear for either of them. Rapture came in intense wave after wave. It was as if liquid heat filled and coursed their veins. It was indescribable. And as the waves slowed and stilled, they were left with a warm pleasant hum. Elena collapsed on top of Damon, their bodies still joined, as she felt vibrations from head to toe. Damon wrapped his arms around her, trying to contain himself, and said nothing.

After a long moment, Elena felt him kiss the top of her head.

"You say I'm cold," he said finally. "Maybe I am. And maybe that's all I've ever been. I can't be anything else, Elena. I don't know how. "

Elena's head rested against his shoulder and she snuggled into him. Her hand reached up and caressed the side of his face.

"Yes you do," she whispered.

He turned to look at her then. He stared at her peculiarly, as if gauging something. He turned away after a long moment and looked at the ceiling.

"Maybe so," he said quietly.


	6. Family Reunion

Damon watched her from shadow of darkness.

Elena felt his presence and looked over her shoulder nervously, hoping he was giving her his courage. She knocked quickly and she tucked her hair behind her ears.

Jeremy opened the front door of their house. He stared at his sister, stunned, if for a moment. He then broke out into a relieved smiled and moved forward, hugging her.

"Elena. God. Where have you been?"

"Hey…"

Jeremy held her at arms length, and chided her.

"I thought I was never gonna see you again. Jenna's been out of her mind."

"Yeah…I know. Look, Jer--"

"It's cold, come inside. Hurry up."

Elena looked over her shoulder into the darkness once more before disappearing into the house. She looked around at everything that was so familiar. Yet it was no longer hers. This was no longer her home. She was suddenly filled with a great sadness. She sat on the couch and stared at her hands.

"Elena, my God" Jenna called as she bounded down the stairs.

Elena stood as Jenna came towards her, crushing her in a hug.

"What were you thinking? We've been worried sick!"

"I know. I'm sorry," she said.

"We need to stick together," Jenna pleaded. "We need each other in times like these. Please don't over do this again. You need us. And we need you. We can do this."

"The tumor is gone," Elena blurted out quickly. She silently cursed herself for lack of tact.

"What? Honey," Jenna took Elena's hand and sat down on the couch with her. "Gosh, you're so cold. Jeremy? Turn up the heater. Elena's skin feels like ice. What you are talking about?"

Elena retracted her hand and placed it in her lap.

"When I left. I went to a holistic healing retreat."

"A holi-what?" Jeremy interrupted.

"Holistic. Its like…y'know, alternative medicine."

Jenna and Jeremy looked at each other as if to say, '_She's lost it…_'

"Well," Jenna said seriously, "lets get to a doctor as soon as we can to make sure everything is okay."

"No," Elena said forcefully cause Jenna to jump. "Sorry. Look…no more needles. No more hospitals. No more doctors. I can't take it anymore. Just…trust me. Do I look sick to you?"

"Actually, no," Jeremy confessed. "You look healthy…alert."

"I feel great. I've been…eating well," she gulped. "I just feel really good."

Elena turned to back to her Aunt.

"Lena…I don't know…I think we need to get a second opinion. I just don't want you to get your hopes up," Jenna said kindly.

"Jenna, I'm asking you to please trust me. I'll get them to send CAT scans if it makes you feel any better. Just please—no doctors."

Elena had been under specific instructions from Damon to stay away from doctors.

_"What do you think is going to happen when they figure out you don't have a heartbeat? Say goodbye to your friends and family & say hello to science experiments."_

Elena shuddered.

"Okay," said Jenna hesitatingly. "Look, its late, why don't we talk in the morning. Try and get some sleep?" She patted Elena's leg.

Elena stood.

"Um, that's another thing," she said. "…I'm not going to be staying here. For now."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm going to be staying at the Salvatore house for a while…"

"Is Stefan back," Jeremy asked.

"No," Elena said quickly. "He isn't. I um…I've been seeing Damon…"

The silence was awkward.

"Oh Elena…I don't think that is such a good idea…" Jenna said. "And honey, you're my responsibility. Not Damon's. Or anyone elses."

"Your last good idea was wanting me to take chemo so my hair could fall out and I could suffer the last few months of my life. My last good idea was running away and getting better. Look how that turned out."

Jenna's mouth dropped open.

Elena regretted her words instantly and leaned forward to hug Jenna.

"Look, Aunt Jenna, I know you are looking out for me. And I love you for it. But with everything that's gone on…I just…I just need a little breathing room. You can understand that, right?"

Before Jenna could even agree, Elena stood. She hugged Jeremy and quickly walked out of the house as she muttered a goodbye.

"Ugh, it went terrible," Elena said.

She and Damon walked through the streets of Mystic Falls towards their home.

"Well, if you had stuck to my script…"

"If I stuck to your script, I would have sounded like a robot."

"Doubtful."

He grabbed her arm and guided her right. They cut through the woods.

"I don't know why we didn't drive," Elena muttered.

"Um, haven't you been whining about being a prisoner? I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't," He dead panned.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she waved her hand. "Thank you _very_ much."

He laughed—a genuine, easy laugh. Elena turned to look at him. And as if he realized he'd made a mistake, his face became a mask and they walked in silence for the remaining duration of the walk. She felt her breath catch when Damon slid his hand into hers. He said nothing but looked straight ahead. Elena wrapped her fingers around his and smiled softly.

When they reached the house, Damon walked inside and grabbed the mail sitting in the foyer. He scanned the envelopes and stopped on one. He looked up at Elena who was walking in the living room, in her own world.

"Go upstairs," he said suddenly.

Elena looked up.

"Hmmm?"

"Go take a bubble bath or whatever it is women do when they relax. I'll be up in a minute."

Elena smiled, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Ooookay…." She moved towards him and stood in front of him, her face upturned.

Damon stared at her.

"Yes?"

Elena's shoulders sagged suddenly and she turned on her heels and walked towards the stairs.

"Nothing," she muttered.

Damon caught her hand and pulled her to him. He bent her back dramatically and kissed her quickly on the mouth. He turned her around and patted her backside.

"Quit pouting. Upstairs. You. Now."

When Elena ascended the stairs, Damon walked into the living room and ripped open the letter. His eyes scanned it quickly, his expression revealing nothing. He re-read the last few sentences before walking towards a nearby candle. He lit the paper on fire and set it in a serving plate. He sat down, leaning back on the sofa, as he watched as the paper curled and turned into ashes.


	7. Plan

"You have to keep it a secret, Bon."

Elena took Bonnie's hand in hers and squeezed it comfortingly. The girls sat in Bonnie's living room, well after the sun had gone down.

Bonnie looked up, sadness etched in her features.

"I just…you know how much I love you. And when I found out you had...well...when I found out you had cancer, I was devastated. I couldn't imagine you being gone. I'm so glad you're still here. But…a _vampire_? It's just alot to swallow."

She said the word 'vampire' as if it were poison.

Elena looked down.

"It was my decision completely. Just trust me, okay? I'm the same Elena you've always known." She smiled.

"With a different appetite?"

"Bonnie," she chastised sadly and looked away.

"I'm sorry. I just never thought my best friend would be...I mean, technically, you're dead. My best friend is dead. Its just hard."

"It's okay."

"You can't trust Damon, you know? He's a killer."

"I know he is. And I've always known what he is…but at the same time, its because of him that I'm here."

"Wait 'til Stefan finds out…" Bonnie said.

Elena whipped her head back to Bonnie.

"What?"

"Well, he isn't going to be happy that his brother turned the love of his life into a vampire…" She said slowly.

Elena lifted her chin. "Who knows when he will come around, if he ever does. Besides—love of his life? He doesn't even know what that is. After what happened? He never did."

Elena stood.

"Look, I have to get going…"

"Already?"

Elena didn't want to tell her that she was starving and hearing the whoosh of Bonnie's blood surging through her veins was making her edge-y.

"Yeah, I needed to talk with Jenna about some stuff. Like me dropping out of school.."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, it's not going to go over well."

Bonnie stood and hugged Elena suddenly.

"If you need anything…you know I'm here. Vampire or no vampire. We gotta stick together."

Elena smiled weakly.

"Of course, Bon. I'll see you soon."

"See ya…"

Elena rushed from the room and shut the door behind her. She shut her eyes tightly for a moment before regaining her composure. She shivered.

* * *

"…she said for me not to trust you."

Damon gave a short laugh and clutched his hand to his chest.

"How devastating. What ever are you going to do?"

"Ugh, shut up."

Damon's arm was casually thrown over Elena's shoulder. The underbrush crunched softly under their feet as they came out of the woods and as the Salvatore House came into view. He gave her a sidelong glance.

"You hungry?"

"Why?"

"You don't look so great, so I'm just asking."

"Gee, thanks. And no, I don't want to kill anyone, Damon."

"You've been doing a bang up job of that on your own, eh? Fine."

Before Elena could issue a retort, Damon stopped dead in his tracks. His hand slid to Elena's waist and stilled her under his grip. She turned to him and he lifted his hand for silence. Damon's senses were keen and he was suddenly on high alert. He looked around for a long moment.

"Get inside," he said calmly.

"Damon," her tone was cautious.

"Do as I say," he said, becoming stern.

Elena quickly walked into the house and shut the door behind her.

Damon stood still for a long moment. Listening. Finally, he was satisfied that nothing was amiss and he walked into the house. He gave one more cautionary look over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. Elena was standing in the foyer, her eyes large.

"What is it," her voice was hushed.

"What was what?"

"Why were you standing outside? What did you hear?"

Damon stood back and looked at her for a long moment.

"Nothing," he said finally.

Elena's shoulders sagged and she rolled her eyes.

"Right," she muttered. She turned on her heels and walked into the living room. She plopped unceremoniously onto the couch, her legs dangling over the arm rest. Damon stood by her legs and reached up, rubbing her knee absently.

"When will I get my ring?" she asked suddenly.

"When I pry it off my brother's finger," he replied.

The silence lingered in the room for a brief moment.

"Wait," Elena said, "when you said you were getting a ring from Stefan. I assumed he had another one."

"Well, you assumed incorrectly."

He climbed on top of Elena and kissed her jaw, her neck.

"Well, how are you going to do that? I don't think he'll just give it to you," she said, refusing to drop the subject.

Damon groaned with annoyance.

"Just leave the schematics to me." He kissed her neck again, biting lightly.

"You aren't going to hurt him…are you?" She asked lightly.

Damon lifted his head suddenly and looked down at Elena.

"So what if I did?"

Elena stayed silent.

Damon's eyes became dark and he moved off of her and stood.

"You're sickening."

"I'm sickening? You're the one plotting the demise of your own brother. I wonder what would ever happen if I crossed you. Would you want to hurt me too?"

"In the worst way," he said murmured. He walked up to her and ran his hand through her hair with a lovers touch. "I would do it without a cent of regret."

Elena's lip began to tremble suddenly and she looked away.

"Oh, what are you crying about? Are you planning some sort of coup?" He asked, almost bored.

"No."

"Then don't worry your pretty head with hypothetical questions. Leave my brother to me."

He dropped his hand and walked towards his bar set. He poured himself a tumbler full of scotch—neat.

"You drink too much," Elena sighed, laying back on the couch.

"Yeah, well," he drank it quickly, "we all have our vices."

"So what was the letter about," Elena asked suddenly, her tone almost triumphant.

Damon kept his back turned towards her.

"None of your business," he said, finishing the drink. He set it down and turned towards her.

"Sure must have been interesting if you burned it after you read it." She was almost taunting him.

Damon's smile came slow. He liked her this way. Taunting him, her tone biting.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he said, making sure to put edge in his voice.

He felt Elena come up behind him, her hands sliding underneath his arms and resting over his chest. She placed her cheek against his back.

"What a terrible liar," she purred. "Tell me."

Damon grabbed her hand and turned, pulling her against his chest. His eyes were cool as he smiled.

"Life is full of uncertainties," he said suddenly. "But there all also certainties… such as…I saw you on the stairs the other night. I lit it because I wanted you to see it. You were standing riiiight there."

He pointed behind her.

"So," he continued, "as I was saying about certainties…there is one thing, above all else that you will come to know as fact." He leaned towards her ear.

"You will never best be. Never fool me. Never have the upper hand on me. Anything you see its because I wanted you to see it. Not because you thought you were clever enough to hide in the shadows unnoticed."

Elena's jaw set and she raised her chin. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip over and over. Slowly. Elena watched him as she felt the rough pad of his thumb slide back and forth, back and forth. After a moment, she parted her mouth and claimed it around her tongue.

"Now," he commanded, "go upstairs. I'm hungry for you."

* * *

"You're burning up."

Damon's placed his palm from Elena's forehead to her neck fresh with Damon's puncture wounds. Elena brushed his hand away.

"I'm fine. I'm just...hungry."

"Then eat."

Elena closed her eyes.

"You're ridiculous," he groaned. "Okay. OKAY. I'll get you a damned bag of blood from the Blood Bank."

"I really should stop drinking human blood all together."

"You'll drink it and shut up."

His hand went to her forehead again.

"You're just burning up," he repeated again.

Elena shivered softly.


	8. Reveal

One week later.

There was a certain way that the moonlight shone on Elena's body that, had he any breath to breathe, it would have been taken from Damon's body. He stood in Elena's doorway, his shoulder leaning against the frame. His chest was bare and he wore a pair of soft, dark drawstring pants that were primarily used while around the house late at night. He sipped slowly from his glass, the blood still warm and fresh from the kill. It was blood from a hitchhiker. Damon compelled him into submission and brought him into the cellar where he harvested the liquid gold before burning his body into oblivion. It was as easy a task as any.

Elena was lying on her bed, one leg hooked over the covers and one of her breasts exposed while the rest of her was buried underneath. She looked like a goddess as she was bathed in the moonlight, a soft hue of light and darkness. His eyes were soft then, vulnerable. He stared at her, lost in thought. She moved then, moaning softly, rousing his attention. He walked over to her and stood at the foot of the bed. From here he could see she was bathed in sweat. He moved towards her at the side of the bed. His brow furrowed and he put his hand at her neck. Burning. At her forehead. Burning. At her hands. Burning. The ripped the covers off of her and to his relief, she woke.

Elena looked at Damon through half lidded eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she paused, "until you woke me up."

"You're too hot. Something isn't right," he said.

"It's just warm in here. Let me go back to sleep."

"Sit up," he asked.

"Damon," she chastised.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her in sitting position. He took her knee and dragged her leg 'til she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Ughhh," she blinked slowly.

Damon placed his index finger under her eye and pulled down her lid. Elena jerked away, annoyed.

"Damon, stop. I'm fine. Just let me sleep. I need more sleep. I'm just tired."

Damon sighed and watched her as she curled back under the covers. He paused before crawling in beside her. He felt the cool wetness of the sheets sticking to his skin and felt annoyed. He threw the covers off of the bed on onto the floor.

"You don't need those," he said.

But by then, Elena was already fast asleep.

When morning came, she was much of the same. Damon paced around restlessly, running options through his mind. He ran his hand through his hair and growled lightly. Just then, a sound and scent caught his attention. The mail man. He stared at the door and watched as letters spilled through the mail slot. He walked lazily and gathered the envelopes, running through them carelessly. He paused on a letter addressed to him written with lovely penmanship. Without reading it, he ripped it into ribbons with a sudden violence and threw it into the trash.

Blood. He needed to get Elena blood. He considered the departing mailman but he didn't want to deal with the mess of killing a government official. He honestly didn't think this would help her in the least but he couldn't stand sitting around like a helpless idiot any longer. He walked up stairs and into one of the guest rooms. This room was different. The walls were the color of white snow, yet you'd think you there was a hint of blue. The bed was soft, covered in white down comforter covered in plush pillows of pale pinks and lilac. Elena had been ordering things out of catalogs in a frenzy as of late and this room was her project. She had placed faux windows with beveled glass about the room with lighting behind them to create an artificial sun. It was bright. In the corner was a tall birdcage where a happy mockingbird flitted about and chirped. She sat at her vanity, humming to herself. She stared off in the distance as clutched her brush with its pearl hilt and slid it through her hair. She turned when Damon entered. God, she looked exhausted.

"I'm going out for a bit," he said.

"Okay," she smiled.

He bent on his knee and touched the side of her face.

"How are you feeling," he asked softly.

"Im just sleepy, honest. I'm okay."

Damon watched her for a moment longer before kissing her head. He stood and walked from the room.

Elena listened to Damon's footsteps and he departed. She set down her brush, her smile fading. She covered her face in her hands and felt the warmth of her skin.

* * *

Damon walked into the Mystic Falls Blood Bank with confidence. He had a book bag slung over his shoulder and could have easily passed for a student. He half charmed, half compelled his way into the back where he proceeded to fill the bookbag with bags of blood while the aide chattered away about her upcoming nuptials.

"Oh yeah? Really? Great?" Damon responded dryly, uninterested. "Okay, I'm going out the back now. You don't know what happened to the blood."

"I don't know what happened to the blood," she repeated like a parrot.

He moved quickly out of the exit and into his black jaguar. He slid on his Wayfarers and stomped on the accelerator, making his way back to the house. His mind was racing a while a minute. Being away from Elena right now felt criminal. He hated himself for feeling this way.

The first thing he noticed was that there was a mountain bike in the driveway. Then, that the door was ajar.

Damon sighed, and hopped out of the car.

But this was new. A flash of blonde passed by the foyer and Damon was on the alert. He walked inside and found a girl, not more than 15, moving slowly up the stairs. Damon furrowed his brow.

"Excuse me," he said, "who in the hell invited you into my house?"

The girl turned slowly, mechanically. She stared vacantly at Damon.

"I'm here for Elena," her voice was robotic.

Damon tilted his head in confusion and the girl began to ascent the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he called out.

He quickly bounded up the stairs and grabbed her by her forearm and brought her back down and into the living room.

"Who are you? Did Elena invite you here?"

"My name is Angela. And I'm here to see Elena."

Damon snapped in front of her face. She did not blink. In fact there was no expression on this girl's face what so ever. And knowledge came swiftly and suddenly to Damon that his eyes widened for a moment. This girl was being compelled.

"I'm here to see Elena," she repeated.

"Yeah, I think we got that part covered."

"I'm supposed to go to Elena," she said.

"Just—do me a favor, stop talking. You aren't going to see Elena."

The girl blinked slowly.

"Who sent you here," he asked, turning her face to him.

"Elena…"

Damon groaned, exasperated. And then that's when he smelled it. He looked down at the girl, her hand balled into a small fist.

"What's in your hand?"

She said nothing.

Damon grabbed her hand roughly and pried open her fingers. There in her palm was a pinch of darkness that looked like sawdust. But Damon knew better. He lifted her palm to his nose to be sure.

"Vervain," he whispered. Vervain seeds. He slapped them out of her hand and onto the floor.

Then he understood and the weight nearly crushed him. This girl was here for Elena to eat. Just like every other time he found someone in the house.

"What were you going to do with those?"

"Eat them," she said blandly.

"When?"

"Swallow these seeds right before you enter the room," she repeated.

"Who told you that," he said quickly.

She said nothing. He knew she wouldn't reveal any more than she already had. She was a pretty thing. Her nose slightly upturned, her cheeks chubby and rosy. Her mouth was soft and her eyes were green like a cat. A mindless cat. Damon snapped her neck viciously, a loud crack filling the living room. She crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Someone was poisoning Elena.


	9. Unwelcome

"Pack your bags," Damon said quickly.

Elena looked up, her knitting needles poised in mid thread. She had taken up many hobbies since her transformation—knitting being one of them. Why she did it, she wasn't exacty sure. It's not like she could knit booties for her children or a sweater for her husband. In fact, if she knitted anything for Damon, she imagined him laughing. So she knitted for no one, only herself.

"Pack your bags," he repeated.

"Why? Where are we going?"

"Italy," he said. He walked to her closet and pulled down several shirts, pants, and dresses. He tossed them on her bed and walked towards her dresser. He pulled out silk chemises, bras, panties, and socks. He tossed them in a heap.

"Italy," she said, startled. "Wh—I don't even have a passport."

"Leave that to me."

Elena put down her ball of yarn and stood weakly, her head tilted.

"What's wrong?"

"Does something ALWAYS have to be wrong," he snapped.

Elena paused, "No…"

"Well then just do as I ask."

"I can't go out in the sun," she said slowly.

"Red eye, my dear," His teeth were clenched. "We'll wait 'til sundown and then we're out the door. Call it a vacation."

"…okay."

Damon reached under her bed and yanked out a pale vintage suitcase. He tossed it over the clothes. He pulled out a small bag of blood from the inside of his jacket pocket. He grabbed Elena's hand and put it in her palm.

"Drink this now. I don't want you pulling any funny stuff on the plane."

Before she could protest, Damon left the room to pack his belongings. She knew something was wrong but she wasn't sure what it could be. She had thought she heard voices earlier but she was half asleep and the voices drifted away. She slowly folded her clothes and packed them in the case. Chanel…Hermes…Valentino. If she could say one thing, she enjoyed purchasing ridiculously expensive dresses, sweaters, skirts and shirts. It was a dream to shimmy into such loveliness that had she not been Damon's, she probably wouldn't have ever obtained them. She clicked the suitcase closed and pushed it to the side of the bed. She curled into the bed and closed her eyes. Sleep claimed her almost instantly.

She dreamt. She was standing in the sunlight and Damon was holding her hand. She looked down at their linked fingers and looked back up. And now it was Stefan. She looked down at his hand and it was bleeding. She looked back up and she was looking at herself.

Elena gasped and sat up in bed. If her heart could beat, it would be beating out of her chest. She looked up and found Damon lounging in her chair.

"Hi," she said, still overwhelmed.

"Good morning," he drawled. "The sun just set. We need to move. We have a flight to Richmond, then a connector to New York. And from New York we'll be flying across the pond."

Elena smiled softly.

"I've never been out of the country before."

"Yeah well, there's a first time for everything."

He grabbed Elena's suitcase and kissed her. It was a soft, undemanding kiss. Like a comfortable kiss between lovers. Elena smiled to herself. It felt…_nice_.

"You know, I only have to look at you to know what you're thinking," he smiled.

Elena said nothing but her smile deepened. They descended the stairs and walked towards the door. Damon stopped suddenly and Elena, who wasn't paying attention, slammed into his back.

"Nice," she said dryly.

She moved beside Damon and looked up at him. His eyes were on the door, alert as a cat.

"What?" She followed his gaze to the door and back again.

"Go wait in the living room," he said softly.

"Damon?"

He turned and looked at her.

"Do as I say," his words were even softer.

She grabbed a catalog from the mail that was sitting in the foyer and walked into the living room, dragging her feet.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Damon walked towards the door. He waited.

The door opened with the force of familiarity.

Stefan Salvatore stood in the doorway, his eyes looking into his brothers. He wore a smoky button up shirt tucked into a pair of black fitted slacks.

"You're here," he said.

Damon threw up his hands and shrugged.

"It's my house. Where else would I be?"

"Why haven't you returned my letters? My emails," Stefan asked quickly. "I was getting worried…"

Stefan trailed off. That _scent_. He caught it on the breeze. And then his heart was in his throat. He looked past Damon and into the living room. Damon shut his eyes for a moment.

"Elena," Stefan called softly.

Elena was standing behind the couch. Her arms were at her side, weighed down like lead. Her tiny fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were pale. Elena. His Elena. His love, his pain. She was standing like the vision of Aphrodite before him. She stared at him, wide eyed, but did nothing.

Stefan took one step towards her and stopped cold. That scent. Elena's scent. The scent that captivated and entranced him. It was different. There was death in it. He didn't have to be any closer to Elena to know.

"Stefan," she said finally. Her smile was in her eyes.

Stefan took a cautionary step back.

"What have you done," his voice gained strength.

He looked from Elena and to Damon behind him. Damon said nothing as he picked at his fingernails.

Elena's face fell. She could see that he knew. He could taste it in the air. Elena looked helplessly at Damon.

"I did what you couldn't," Damon said casually.

Stefan's face contorted into a mask of anger. He grabbed at Damon, yanking him by the collar and shoving him against the wall. Damon's back slammed into a mirror behind him and it shattered, bits of glass stabbing at his back like angry thorns. He didn't attempt to fight back. He rolled his eyes.

"What have you done," Stefan repeated.

"Don't be so dense. You _feel_ it. She's one of _us _now. She's a vampire," he paused. "You're welcome."

Stefan roared. He grabbed the wooden frame of the mirror and broke it over his knee. He swung the wooden stake towards Damon. Elena's scream was deafening.

"Stefan, no!"

Stefan stopped mid-air and looked at Elena, getting lost in her frightened gaze. The stake clattered to the ground and he stood there, shaking with anger.

Stefan covered his face in his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze again.

"Why," he sputtered.

"Because she had cancer," Damon interrupted.

Stefan swung around to look at Damon.

"Cancer?" he asked. He looked back at Elena and then back to Damon.

"Why…why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm not your messenger boy. And for what? You wouldn't have had the _balls _to do what I did. You would have toyed the idea of immortality and made her miserable when you decided you couldn't bend your morality bone. _You_ should have kept tabs on her."

Stefan walked towards Elena, the couch separating them.

"I would have come…" He said. "If I had known…"

"I tried to find you," Elena began.

"The point is you didn't know, Baby Brother," Damon chided. He walked towards Elena. He took her hand and pulled her against his chest possessively.

"And," he continued, "that's your cross to bear."

Damon watched Stefan. He could pinpoint the exact moment when his brother realized that Elena no longer belonged to him. Damon beamed inside. He kissed Elena's temple with deliberation.

"Well," Damon said calmly. "I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on. We were on our way out buuuuut…it can be postponed."

He poured himself a glass of scotch filled to the brim. And walked out of the room.

Elena switched her weight from one foot to the other. Stefan said nothing, instead he drunk her in with his eyes. He slowly moved around the couch. Elena stilled and felt herself began to shake. Stefan walked until he was in front of Elena. His moved his hand towards her, his fingers lifted her face softly to look at him.

"I'm so sorry I failed you. I had no idea…"

Elena blinked and looked away.

"No one really knew. I did want to find you, Stefan; I just didn't know where I was supposed to look."

"This is all my fault…"

Elena shook her head slowly.

"All your fault? No, Stefan. You aren't God. You didn't cause my cancer. It's just…everything happened the way it was supposed to."

"I should have been here. To comfort you or…"

Elena smiled sadly.

"It's okay, Stefan."

"I never," his voice broke, "I didn't want this for you, Elena. I wanted more for you than this."

"So did I," she whispered. A tear snaked slowly down her face. Stefan reached up, cupping her face as his thumb slide across her cheek and wiped away her tear. His face bent to hers, their foreheads touching. His nose brushed against hers and she could feel that his mouth was a breath away. She backed away suddenly.

"I can't," she said shortly. "I can't."

She turned from him and ran upstairs.

Stefan watched her, his mouth slightly agape and he bowed his head.

"Bravo," Damon drawled, coming into the room.

Stefan turned to him slowly.

"Why," he managed to ask.

"Why not?"

"You knew how much I loved her..."

"You knew how much I loved Katherine," Damon said bitingly, "That didn't stop you, did it?"

"This isn't _Katherine_, Damon."

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I know who she is. You can't handle yourself with anyone you love. You don't know _how_. Am I dreaming things or didn't you try to kill her a year ago?"

Stefan froze.

"It was an accident."

"Right. Right. Right. An _accident_."

* * *

_Stefan had nearly been killed in a brutal confrontation with a hostile vampire. He'd been beaten, tortured, and left for vultures until Elena found him. Stefan was writhing in pain on the ground, so pale that he was nearly grey. She gave him her wrist and begged him to drink. And he did. He drank from her like a thirsting dog. He gulped down her blood so thoroughly that before he realized it, Elena had passed out on top of him. And that was when his hunger surfaced._

_It was like when a person went on a diet. They could be content with the food they chose to eat day in and day out. But if presented with a cheeseburger or something equally bad, surrendering to your weakness was fulfilling and wonderful. He tried to hide it. But his lust for human blood grew out of control. And before he knew it, he was stealing from blood banks. He was taking drinks off of pedestrians and compelling them to forget. He killed a vagrant who was hitchhiking out of town and he had reveled in it. He forgot his ethical responsibility. He tried to keep of pretenses with Elena but he knew she could sense something was wrong. And then one day, everything went so wrong…_

_Elena knocked on door of the Salvatore house._

_Stefan looked up. It was Elena. He could feel her. He continued dragging the body down into the basement. He gripped the black leather heel of a women. Every step he took, her head knocked into the stone as he descended. Thump. Thump. It was like hitting a watermelon into pavement. Her heel came loose and Stefan lost his balance, falling the remaining few steps into the basement. He swore, frustrated. He stood quickly and grabbed the dead woman's ankle. He yanked her forcefully into the basement. Her head slammed against the bottom step before resting at his feet. He tilted his head and looked at her. Much like a watermelon. Blood oozed from her scalp like juice. The woman moaned. She was still alive. Stefan smiled._

_"Stefan?" Elena's voice echoed from above. _

_Stefan dragged the woman into an empty cell and quickly ascended the stairs and walked into the living room. Elena's back was to him. He slid his arms around her waist and kissed her neck passionately._

_"There you are," she smiled. She turned into him and kissed him quickly on the mouth._

_"Where were you? I was starting to think you weren't here."_

_"Sorry, I was in the garage."_

_Elena pulled on Stefan's hand. Her fingers slipped on the blood that was fresh on his palm._

_Elena looked down at her hand slowly and then back up at Stefan._

_"Are you okay," she asked hesitantly._

_Stefan snatched her hand and wiped it on her shirt. He bowed his head, attempting to look ashamed._

_"Sorry…rabbit…" he mumbled._

_Elena's heart went out to him._

_"It's okay. You don't have to be ashamed, Stefan…you have to eat somehow."_

_Stefan turned away._

_"Yeah, well…I am ashamed."_

_Elena touched his face and kissed him. She could taste the iron-y flavor of blood in his mouth and inwardly shuddered._

_"Don't be," she whispered._

_Stefan wrapped his arms around her._

_"Hey," she changed the subject, "Go get your history books. We need to cram for the final. Well…I need to cram. You know just about everything. Do you have my notecards?"_

_"They're in my room, I'll go get them," he smiled. "Hey Elena?"_

_"Hmmm?"_

_"Thank you," he said._

_"For what?"_

_"You know."_

_Elena smiled and said nothing as he walked slowly upstairs. And not a moment after he disappeared did she hear the sound of a cat meowing. Elena tilted her head and stood. There it was again. She looked around and cautiously clicked her tongue._

_"Here kitty," she said softly. _

_She walked out of the living room and found herself at the door to the basement. She paused and heard the meow again. Yes…it was most definitely coming from in there. She opened the door and immediately saw puddles of blood on the steps. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She could feel her heart beating in her ears and she walked to the bottom. With horror, she realized it wasn't a cat at all. A dark smear of blood led into a cell. She opened the large oak door…_

Elena shook her head. Memories did nothing but cause pain. There was no use in remembering that night. There was no use in remembering anything about Stefan. She waited for Damon to come into her room. She waited for him to take her fuck her until she was mindless. She waited.

He did not come.


	10. Goodbye, Hello

"Where have you been," she asked, attempting to stay angry.

It was five in the morning. Elena awoke to the weight of Damon on top of her. And to the sound of her slip being ripped to her stomach. Damon's mouth moved over her breast, his tongue claiming her nipple. He slid is tongue around it while her other breast was in his hand. Elena closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her anger dissipating. She moaned and then pushed Damon off of her.

"Cut it out," she huffed.

"Oh, come now. What's wrong princess?"

He settled beside Elena, his hand lazily propping his head up.

"Where have you been? You've been gone for two days!"

"Has it only been two days? I swore it was longer…"

Elena raised her chin defiantly.

"I'm surprised you left me…_alone_." She made sure to put emphasis on the last word.

Damon's eyes darkened quickly.

"So what if I did. I have no reason to worry. You're mine, after all. _Right_?"

Elena said nothing.

Damon gave a short laugh.

"Go to him, then."

"What?"

"If you want to be in the arms of that drone, then go. I won't stop you. Go crawl in bed with him and beg his forgiveness. Kiss all his moronic tears away until his dick gets hard enough to fuck you."

Elena pushed away at Damon and moved to get out of bed.

"You're disgusting."

Damon pushed her back down onto the pillows.

"Or maybe you already have fucked him…?"

"Maybe."

Damon laughed coldly.

"Please. You've hardly left the room and you and I both know it."

Elena seethed for a moment. Her hand reached out in the darkness, suddenly, and slid down Damon's body, grabbing his erection in her hand. Damon closed his eyes, his dominance wavering.

"I don't want to talk anymore," Elena whispered, her hand moving up and down.

"So stop talking," Damon said as his mouth crushed hers.

His mouth took, tasted, and claimed. Her tongue delved, savored, gave. She moaned into his kiss, one arm hooking around his neck while the other teased him relentlessly. His hand moved down and lifted her silk slip passed her thighs. His fingers moved in between her legs. Her massaged her back and forth like an expert guitarist. Elena threw her head back into the pillows, her back arched. His mouth fell to her craned neck, his teeth raking across her skin. And then his fangs dipped into her flesh, drinking her. Elena whimpered half in pleasure, half in pain. Damon was on top of her now. He moved his mouth back to hers and pressed himself against her. Elena moaned, her hands moving upwards and tangling in his hair.

"God, Damon…" she moaned in between kisses.

Damon sat up for a moment, pulling off the remnants of her garment. He settled himself in between her legs and rubbed himself against her. Elena lifted her hips in encouragement. But he teased her. Moving almost inside of her and then pulling away. She was on the verge of begging when he pushed himself deep within her. Elena gave a low breathy moan and her nails raked down his back with urgency. Damon hissed in pain and thrust deeper, harder. His hands slid to either side of her hips, pinning them against the bed as he drove himself inside the delicious wet warmth in between her thighs. His cupped her breast, his thumb running over her nipple as he leaned forward into her and bent his mouth to capture her lips. He couldn't wait for her. As much as he wanted to…

"Fuck," he breathed. "Elena, I'm gonna…"

And he came in a rush. A flood of pleasure traveled from his loins and through his veins and back again. He was dizzy, disoriented, pleased. Elena moved on top of him and rode him. Damon shuddered and moaned between his gritted teeth. It was almost too much to handle, he was so sensitive. He looked up at Elena and her darkened eyes. She didn't care how sensitive he was. She didn't care that his body was experiencing tremors as she rocked her pelvis back and forth with him still inside her. She was so close. So close. She leaned into his body, her mouth hovering over his. Her tongue darted out over his lips for a moment. His breaths were ragged and he moaned her name. Her hand slid over his neck, to the side of his face and through his hair. She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged. Primal. Her eyes shut and her mouth fell open. Her climax was so sudden that she shook from her head to her toes.

"Oh my God," she managed to choke out.

She collapsed on top of Damon's chest and her body slowly began to regulate—sweet throbs echoing in her body. She almost purred. She burrowed her head in the crook of Damon's neck and kissed him there. Damon laid with his eyes closed. He put his arm around Elena's back and kissed her forehead. They said nothing.

* * *

When they awoke the later that afternoon, Stefan was waiting for them in the living room. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes were calm, detached. He wore a shirt was a dark beige, like chocolate muted in copious amounts of crème. His slacks were a fitted pair of dark navy and held with a simple belt.

Elena had begun her descent downstairs in her pearl colored chemise. As soon as she saw Stefan, a small sound escaped her lips and she took a step back. Damon smirked and took her hand, leading her beside him. She couldn't have felt more awkward. Damon was brash in his silk robe, loosely tied at the waist—exposing his muscular chest.

Before Damon could speak, Stefan cleared his throat.

"I, uh…I'm leaving," he paused, "today."

"What? Why," Elena asked, shocked.

Damon gave a side glance to Elena before speaking.

"Leaving so soon?"

Stefan looked briefly at Damon before turning his gaze to Elena. His eyes lingered on her as he spoke.

"I came because…well, I came because I was worried. And with reason. But it's out of my hands now. You're safe. There is nothing for me here. I spent time in Italy at a monastery. I've learned a lot while I was there. Discipline….the harmony of life. I think I'd like to go back."

Damon gave a short laugh. "Don't let the door kick you on the way out."

Stefan nodded and raised his brows, not in shock but in confirmation.

"Damon," Elena chastised.

Damon rolled eyes.

Stefan moved forward towards Elena. Damon didn't move from her side an inch. Stefan looked at his brother, almost pleading. Damon groaned. His eyes flicked over Stefan's ring before he walked towards the foyer.

Stefan reached his hand up and placed it on Elena's shoulder.

"I'll check in on you," he assured.

"You just got here," she said.

"Do you think I'd want to stay," he asked.

Elena blinked and cast her eyes down. She said nothing.

"You're a strong girl," he continued. "You'll be fine."

He squeezed her arm reassuringly.

"Goodbye, Elena."

He leaned in and hesitated for noticeable moment. He kissed her cheek and began to walk away towards the door that Damon already opened for him.

Stefan stopped and looked at Damon.

"Take care of her," he said.

"I already am," he looked towards Elena. She motioned to Stefan and implored him with her eyes as if to say, 'Be nice to your brother.' Damon rolled his and looked away.

"Before you leave," he lowered his voice, "there is something you should know."

Stefan turned.

Damon turned his back to Elena and looked at Stefan. His eyes changed. Gone was the strong façade and the over exemplified arrogance.

His voice was a bear whisper.

"Someone is trying to kill Elena," he said softly.

Stefan's eyes flew to Elena's and back to Damon's.

"What?"

"Calm down," Damon hushed. "I don't want her to know."

"Know what," Stefan's voice said lightly. "What's going on?"

"Someone's been sending compelled people into the house for Elena to eat….the last one had Vervain seeds she said she had to swallow first before seeing her. Something is wrong."

Stefan said nothing

Damon knew immediately that Stefan wouldn't be leaving to Italy.

"As much as I hate you, I need you here right now until I figure out what's going on."

"I don't care what you need. I'm doing it for Elena."

"Whatever."


	11. Blur

Her fingertip traced lazily across his back.

Damon lay on his stomach, his cheek resting against the covers, staring at Elena. She laid on her side, one arm tucked underneath her head while her other draped over Damon, her fingers drawing imaginary patterns.

"You never said where you went."

"Hmm?"

"The other day…when you left. You didn't say where you went."

"I know."

"…where did you go?"

Damon sighed, shutting his eyes.

"I was watching. You. I was watching you."

Elena's finger stilled.

"Watch me? Why?"

"I was making sure of something."

Elena stayed silent for a moment.

"Were you seeing if I'd go to Stefan?"

He said nothing.

Elena curled closer to Damon and draped her leg across his thigh.

She kissed the tip of his nose and rested her cheek against his.

"Im yours," she whispered.

Damon said nothing, his eyes staying closed. But his lip curled into the slightest smile.

He turned his face into hers and kissed her slowly on the lips, savoring it.

"Go to sleep," he said as he threw his arm across her shoulders.

* * *

That morning, Damon left Elena sleeping in bed while he met Stefan at a café off of Washington Street. Of course the coffee did nothing for Damon, but the warmth was comforting. His left palm cupped the porcelain cup while he grabbed the decanter of cream and poured a ridiculous amount into the cup. The dark hue of the coffee instantly became muted to pale beige. Damon smiled to himself and he stirred the cup slowly with a small spoon. He looked up at Stefan, his eyes peeking up over Ray Ban Cats sunglasses.

"Well," Stefan asked, "are you going to answer me?"

"Should I dignify this with a response," he mused aloud before changing his voice to a mocking tone, "Why no, Stefan, I do not know who is trying to poison Elena."

Damon put the spoon down.

"If I knew who it was," his tone was suddenly lethal, "that person would be dead by now."

Stefan crossed his arms and rested them on the table. He leaned forward.

"What are we going to do?"

Damon took a cautionary look around.

"Lay low. You coming into town certainly muddled things so I wouldn't be surprised if they backed off for a bit."

"Why didn't you tell me she had cancer," Stefan asked suddenly. His eyes were pensive.

Damon leaned back in his chair and measured Stefan's look with a disinterested one of his own.

"Because," he said casually, "I wanted her for myself."

"Is this about Katherine?"

"Fuck Katherine," Damon spat suddenly. He sat straight in his chair. "Katherine was a manipulative bitch. Is a manipulative bitch. Whatever. It doesn't matter. This isn't about her. But if you really want to play that game, I can go there. You _did_ take Katherine from me."

"So you wanted to take Elena from me?"

Damon said nothing, allowing himself to cool.

"I didn't have to take her. She came to me. A ripe strawberry begging to be plucked."

Stefan's eyes flashed anger.

"You took advantage of her."

"Oh, Im sorry, did I almost kill her and disappear to a monestary? Did I give her cancer? Did I ask her to come knocking on my door and beg me to take her pain away? No. Face it, bro, you were the catalyst, not me."

"You're selfish."

"You act like you're telling me something I don't already know. And this is getting off topic. As much as I hate to ask you, I need you to move back into the Boarding House."

"That's not asking."

"Well, that's the best that you're gonna get."

Before Stefan could answer, the words died on his lips as he saw Damon's features change. His gaze was just passed him. Stefan turned, following his gaze. He saw nothing and looked back at Damon.

"What?"

Damon stood and walked out of the café.

Stefan began to follow.

"Sir," the waitress called out, "you need to pay for that coffee or I'm gonna call the police."

Stefan turned, his attention diverted. He handed the waitress a twenty dollar bill and told her to keep the change. Damon stood outside on the sidewalk and walked to the corner, looking around.

"What?" Stefan asked.

"I thought I saw Elena…"

"That's impossible."

"I know it is."

"Then what's going on?"

" God, I never should have left her alone in that house."

* * *

Elena smelled jasmine. She felt the warmth of a body pressed against her, lips against her throat. Elena moaned, groggy from sleep. Teeth slid across her, breaking her skin lightly, pleasingly. She arched her back and smiled. She opened her eyes and found her eyes staring into the eyes of another. But it was a doppelganger. It was a mirror. She was staring at herself? And yet these eyes were harder, dangerous. Elena gasped. Those eyes held her. They pulled her down like a heavy anchor into the dark depths of the unknown. It pulled her outside of herself so fast that she didn't get a chance to think. All she managed to do was gasp sharply. And then she could hear her own voice. Was it her voice?

"Shhhh," the voice said. "Be calm."

A small whimper escaped Elena's throat.

"Shhh," the voice said again. "Don't be afraid. You're dreaming."

A hand slid down waist. Was she touching herself? Was someone touching her?

"We are so beautiful," the voice mused. "Perfect skin, perfect eyes…perfect body."

A tongue flicked over her nipple.

"Why wouldn't you want to touch yourself? Especially when I know what I like. You like."

Elena shook, words caught in her throat. Or was she talking to herself?

_Help._

"You're scared. You're always scared. It will pass"

She could feel the pressure of a kiss in between her breasts. But the eyes…she could still feel the eyes. But the kiss…

The mouth moved lower, a tongue leaving a trail of moisture as it slid across cool skin.

"Maybe Im a narcissist."

Elena looked down. It was as if she was making love to herself…the mouth moved lower. Elena's hand moved tentatively, her fingers threading in soft brown hair.

"That's it, ma Cherie," the voice purred and her face again visible as she looked up at Elena. Her twin. Herself. Fingers slid inside of Elena and a moaned escaped her lips. She was in absolute terror, absolute pleasure.

"I'm going to love you to death, Elena," the voice said sweetly.

Just then a muffled bang was heard in the floor below.

Damon bounded up the stairs and burst loudly into Elena's room.

Elena laid on the bed, naked, covers thrown off.

She propped herself up, half asleep.

"Whats going on," she asked.

Stefan appeared behind Damon and quickly averted his eyes and walked back out of the room and into the hall.

Elena's eyes widened and she covered herself with her comforter. Her mind had completely blocked out her dream.

"Damon?" she asked again, louder.

Damon walked into the room.

"Nothing," he said softly, noting the scent of Jasmine in the air. "Nothing."


	12. Unexpected

**1864.**

Katherine Pierce stood in the sunlight as it streamed through her high paned window at the Salvatore Mansion. Her neck was held high as she looked into the yard below, her eyes on the Salvatore brothers. Her hand maiden, Emily Bennett, moved her fingers skillfully as she quickly tightened Katherine's corset.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes," Emily sighed.

Katherine turned, the ribbon pulled from Emily's hand.

"What," Katherine asked, her tone was hard.

"Nothing."

"That's right, now finish lacing me up and help me with my dress," Katherine said smoothly.

Emily was stone faced as she grabbed the dress off of Katherine's bed. It was crème colored silk, adorned with small patterned pink rosettes. The neckline was low and not the kind of dress for a demure daytime look. The sleeves were short, exposing her pale thin arms.

"You scandalize yourself wearing this," Emily remarked.

"Of course I do. I refuse to wear a dress buttoned to my chin—far too matronly for a beauty such as myself. I am like fine china. I am meant to be displayed for all to see."

Emily smirked, "Always the belle of the ball."

"Of course," Katherine smiled, "Have you seen Pearl?"

Pearl was Katherine's long time friend, confidante, and fellow vampire.

"She's downstairs breakfasting with Jonathan Gilbert."

"Ha!"

"Shall I get her for you?"

"Yes, "Katherine paused, "and take your leave."

Emily fluffed Katherine's dress and exited the room. Katherine hummed "The Girl I Left Behind Me," and sat into her vanity chair, staring at her reflection. She picked up her soft bristle brush with its ivory hilt and slid it through her waterfall of chestnut hair, lost in thought.

"You asked for me," Pearl interrupted, closing the door behind her. She locked it and turned back to Katherine expectantly.

"Yes," Katherine said smoothly. "Sit."

Pearl made no move to do so and stared at Katherine.

"What is it," she asked impatiently.

"So I've become aware that you've become quite taken with Jonathan Gilbert? How absolutely sweet."

Pearl arched her brow. She was beautiful. With her exotic eyes and high cheekbones, Pearl carried herself with an air of confidence. Her hair was pulled back conservatively from her face and fashioned in a bun. Her dress was dark lavender, complimenting her eyes. It had a high buttoned collar and full skirt.

"You're jealous," Pearl said—more a remark than a question.

Katherine's laugh was light.

"Hardly," she said, "I'm just amused at the spectacle. Do you think he'd be as entranced with his foreign little bird if he knew it had fangs?"

"Katherine…"

Katherine stood, putting down her brush.

"I'm merely posing a rhetorical question, Love. What do you think?"

Her skirts rustled as she moved towards Pearl. The back of her hand grazed her cheek. Pearl shut her eyes, a small resistant sigh escaping her lips.

"He doesn't know you, Pearl. He doesn't want to know you. Do you know what he sees?"

Katherine turned her palm into Pearl's cheek. Her hand drifted down to her neck, her finger flicking off the buttons of her dress one by one.

"Katherine," Pearl warned, "Stop."

"Or what," Katherine bit into her own lip, her eyes sparkling wickedly.

Pearl's dress was open to her waist, her black corset peering through. Her top of her breasts were pouring over the lace hem, her skin soft and luminescent.

"He sees this," Katherine said softly, her fingers sliding over the corset, Pearl's breasts. Then they drifted over the skirt of her dress and to the cleft between her legs. "And this."

Pearl moved away suddenly.

"Damn you, Katherine," she hissed quickly, gathering the garment over the corset. "When will it stop? You want everyone to love you, man or woman. And you don't care who you hurt along the way. Look at those boys outside," she gestured out of the window, "I've seen how you look at them-"

"Now who is jealous?" She laughed.

Pearl advanced on Katherine, her hand at her neck and pressed her into the wall.

"I'm heartsick with you. We all are. We are your toys. God save anyone who gets in your way."

Katherine swatted her hand away and grabbed a fist full of Pearl's bun and yanked her face to her.

"There is no God, Pearl. Only me."

She crushed her mouth, hard, into Pearl's. Taking. Claiming. Owning.

* * *

Damon handed a blood bag to Elena, a bright pink straw punctured through the plastic.

Elena looked up at Damon, amused. He sat down on the couch beside her.

Damon shrugged, "Damned if I do and damned if I don't."

Elena stared at the bag guiltily.

"Someone else could be using this blood, Damon. Someone who needs it."

"You need it. Drink it."

Elena slowly brought the straw to her lips. As soon as the blood poured into her mouth, she was insatiable. She clutched the bag in a feral way and sucked until there was nothing left. The bag crinkled inward with the force of the vacuum pressure. Shame filled her. She was acting like an animal and worse yet, Damon was watching her every move. She looked up at him, only to see his attention was not on her. He stared into the fireplace, his eyes vacant but clearly lost in thought. She put the bag down at her side and took Damon's hand.

"Where are you?"

Damon looked up.

"Nowhere," he changed the subject, "So Stefan has been begging me to move back in..."

"Begging? What? What's up with you two? One minute he is leaving, the next he is staying."

Damon shrugged. "He had a change of heart and I've gotten ridiculously soft."

"Well, it'll be nice to have you two spend time together."

"Don't count on it," his turned towards Elena, "Don't make me regret this."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means if I smell him on you, I wouldn't think twice to drive a stake through your black heart."

"You know, you have a serious complex."

"Funny, Freud told me the same thing."

"Freud? Sigmund Freud? Wait. You knew him?"

Damon smiled sarcastically. "You'll never know."

Elena pushed his shoulder playfully before leaning in and kissing his cheek. She caught herself doing this more often. Kissing him randomly, grabbing his hand to hold and snuggling against him without a second thought. Something about it felt…_nice_.

It wasn't something that had gone unnoticed with Damon. He was very aware of every time she kissed him. Every time she initiated sex. Every time she curled into his body in the middle of the night. Every time that she murmured his name in dreams. And every time she murmured Stefan's name. He knew there was something still there between the two of them and it disgusted him. It made his skin crawl and in flooded his veins with rage. He almost wished he'd catch them in a lascivious act so he could kill her and his brother. All he needed was for Elena to breech her word and he would sever everything. But she had done nothing to the contrary. She had been loyal, though clearly emotional. There was ice around his heart and he found that she was constantly there, holding a candle, trying to melt it.

He didn't know what to feel.


	13. Confusion

Elena stared into eyes much like hers.

"Sometimes I don't know who I am anymore," she said. "Its lke…on this one hand I'm Elena Gilbert. I have a great heart…if un-beating, good friends and a loving family. On the other hand…I'm Elena Gilbert. I'm a vampire. I kill humans to survive. Where in the hell am I supposed to find the balance in that? You know?"

She looked away and then looked back into the eyes.

"Do you know what I mean?"

Elena sighed and moved away from the mirror.

"Stupid," she muttered.

She walked downstairs, hugging herself in her short terrycloth robe. She was barefoot, her tread light, as she walked into the kitchen. Her hair was pulled back and away from her fresh face. She stared around at the kitchen. It was beautiful. A chef's dream. The appliances were stainless steel and there was a lovely marble island in the center colored in walnut. In another life she could have made a good wife here—cooking meals, children running at her feet. That wasn't for her. No children, no picket fence. She walked to the fridge and opened it. The light flooded the dark room and she squinted, reaching her hand in and grabbing a bag of blood. As closed the door, it revealed Stefan standing silently behind it's cover. Elena jumped, dropping the bag on the floor as she yelped.

Stefan smiled wryly, though it didn't quite reach his eye.

"Sorry," he said, reaching for the bag, "Here. You dropped this."

"Oh, its okay." Elena reached for the bag, shamed, and held it loosely at her side.

"Um, how are you," he asked.

"Fine…why?"

"Just asking."

"Oh...okay," she nodded and began walking out of the kitchen.

"You know," he said suddenly, "you don't have to run away every time you're near me."

Elena stopped and turned slowly.

"It's better this way," she said softly.

"Is it?"

"For me? Yes."

Stefan walked towards Elena.

"Can you honestly say that you feel nothing for me?" He asked quietly.

Elena's eyes widened for a moment before she composed herself.

"No," she said, her voice wavering, "I can't."

"Leave him."

Elena looked up at him.

"I could never."

"Why?"

"He gave me life."

"Elena, he gave you death."

"He gave me a second chance, Stefan. He saved me when I had nothing left...I care about him."

Stefan grabbed at her arm and pulled her close, his mouth over her ear.

"If I kissed you right now, you know you wouldn't stop me."

Elena reached up with her other hand and un-pried his fingers. She never looked more calm as she did when she looked at up at Stefan.

"It would never get to that point. I wouldn't put myself in that position. Stefan, my heart still calls to you. I can't lie. But there is an ocean between us. And I can't swim."

She grabbed the bag of blood slowly and walked out of the kitchen.

Stefan stood in the darkness. He didn't move long after she had gone.

"So much for the Salvatore charm..."

Stefan turned at the sound of the voice, frowning slightly.

Katherine leaned her shoulder against the confectioner's oven, a smirk painted on her lips.

"Have you lost your mind," Stefan said quickly, grabbing her arm. "Do you want to get caught?"

Katherine yanked her arm away.

"You forget yourself. I know what I'm doing. Damon is out looking for an early breakfast and Elena," she paused, "Just started her shower."

"Yeah, well—the last thing I need is for this entire thing to blow up in my face."

"You're paranoid."

"Yeah, well, rightfully so."

"Look. It's all about end game. I'm just doing you a favor. You found _me_ in Italy, remember? Not the other way around."

"I didn't know it was you…"

"Details aren't important. The fact is I'm here. You're welcome."

"You didn't have to poison Elena…"

"Oh, give me a break. How else were you going to be welcomed back into the fold? Damon thinks he _needs _you. Elena _needs_ you. "

"And what do you need?"

"You already know what. And until I get what_ I_ need, you're to do my bidding."

Stefan swallowed back. He had indeed made a deal with the devil. He closed his eyes as he felt her body press to his and her fangs tear into his skin.

* * *

"Stop looking at my neck!"

"What? I'm not looking at your neck!"

Bonnie slowly moved her hand from shielding her throat.

"Sorry," she said slowly. "It's just a big change. I'm still trying to get used to it."

"I know. I'm sorry, too. But Bon—I would never hurt you. You're my best friend."

She took Bonnie's hand in hers.

Bonnie sighed, relaxing.

"God, you're right. I know you wouldn't I don't know what's wrong with me."

She shook Elena's hand playfully.

"So Stefan was trying to make moves on you, huh?"

"I wouldn't call it moves, but he was trying…trying something."

"You need to be careful. Like Ive told you—Damon is dangerous, if he even suspected…"

"Damon would never hurt me."

"He might-if you hurt him first."

"I wouldn't," Elena said passionately. "Never."

Bonnie looked up at Elena, her head cocked to the side.

"Are you in love with him?"

Elena's eyes flew to Bonnie's and then away.

"What? No. I mean, I care about him. I have feelings," she paused, "He saved my life. Well…you know what I mean. But love? No."

"So you're still in love with Stefan?"

"Yes. No. I don't know!" She buried her face in her hands.

"Good luck with that," Bonnie paused. "So are you and Damon…"

Elena looked up. "Are we what?"

"You know…doing_ it_."

Elena buried her face in the pillow.

"No," she muffled.

"A-ha! Liar! I knew it." She laughed.

"Shut up!"

"Well how was it?"

Elena lifted her head slightly, one sparkling eye looking up at Bonnie.

"Intense."

They giggled.

* * *

When Damon walked into the house it was more silent than usual.

So when Elena's hands slid between his arms and across his chest from behind, he was slightly startled.

"Shhhh," she whispered in his ear.

The air was perfumed with her, with the scent of jasmine…

Damon's mind raced for a moment but then…

Elena pressed her face into his back, her teeth dragging along his spine. Her hands moved over his body. Her fingers slid underneath his shirt and along his abs. She felt his muscles twitch as she moved her hands lower and to his belt. She metallic clang on his buckle snapped as she undid it quickly, her hand diving underneath his boxers and finding her prize.

"Mmm," she moaned appreciatively.

Damon let out a small moan and threw his head back, his eyes closing. Her hand slid up and down him with one hand while the other scratched down his chest. Damon turned suddenly, facing Elena. He was thrown for a moment. Her eyes. She had the look of a naughty but sated cat that had been caught in the cream. He pushed the thought away and kicked off his pants and grabbed her, crushing his mouth to hers. He carried her in his arms and took her upstairs. Before they could get to the room, she wiggled free and moved away from him playfully. He smiled and slammed her against the wall, his hand sliding to her backside and pressing her against him. She struggled half heartedly, letting him rip at her pants and yank them down her thighs. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her away from him. She arched into him as he entered her from behind, Elena's body pressed against the dusky colored wallpaper. Her hands were raised and pressed into the wall, anchored by Damon's left hand, while the other held her hip, guiding her back and onto his hardness. Her nails dug into the paper, shredding underneath her powerful fingers. He reached up, ripping at her shirt, pulling down the v-neck collar and exposing her breasts. His hand cupped them, her nipple in between his thumb and index finger. He growled low, his body thrusting forward and inside of her. Elena moaned her head thrown back and bumping against Damon's shoulder.

"Right there," she encouraged in between cries, "Don't stop…"

Harder. Faster. Deeper. Damon drove inside the welcoming warm wetness that she provided. She was his. Only his. He let go of her wrist and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back. His teeth sunk into her. The darkness of her blood overwhelmed him, drained him. He was in a delicious mist and the verge of crescendo. He heard Elena's moans of climax which signaled his own release as he bit down harder on her neck. He groaned deep, his eyes shutting as great throbs coursed through his body. He leaned against her, his forehead against the wall as he tried to regulate his body and allow his mind to come back to reality. She turned in his embrace and faced him. Her shoulders pressed back against the wall, arms dangling at her side and with her hips forward.

Her eyes…

"Did you miss me," she said, her lip curving.

_Katherine._

Damon cried out, sitting up in bed, sweat dripping down his face.

"Damon," Elena reached out, touching his arm. "What's wrong?"

Damon shut his eyes.

He could still taste her. He could feel her eyes.

"Nothing," he said softly. "Just a dream. Go back to sleep."

He leaned over and kissed her temple.

Elena snuggled back under the crook of his neck, slowly stroking his arm until she fell back asleep.

Damon's eyes were open, alert, for the rest of the night.


	14. Back

_1864._

_"Have you seen my mother?"_

_Katherine paused, her hands over a small leather box. She smiled, opened the box and procured an exquisite glass bottle filled with perfume. Written on the elegant label was the name "__Molinard," and below that in a smaller font was the word, "Jasmin."__ Katherine removed the glass stopper, its long glass stem dipped into the bottle, and pressed it to her neck. It was a gift from Damon. A lovely bottle of perfume from a perfumery in Grasse, France, he had said. It was equal parts floral and animalic. The heady scent of jasmine flooded her nostrils and she smiled again. She turned in her vanity stool towards the sound of the voice. Towards Anna. _

_Anna was Pearl's daughter and also a fellow vampire. She was beautiful. Her dark hair, pale skin and lovely eyes made her a vision of loveliness. She also had an innocent glow about her that struck Katherine—like a cat that'd just caught sight of a mouse._

_"Yes," she said finally. "Jonathan Gilbert asked her to accompany him on a horseback ride through Mystic Falls."_

_"Oh," Anna said shortly._

_"Do come in," she gestured beside her._

_Katherine took a sidelong glance at her handmaiden, Emily, who sat in the corner, mending a rip in a lavender dress. Emily sighed quietly, gathering the garment in her arms and quietly taking leave._

_Anna walked into the room, turning back at the door as Emily closed it behind her._

_Katherine looked up at Anna and smiled._

_"So how do you like it here," she asked. "Are you adjusting?"_

_"It's fine…if a bit dull. But mother seems to like it…"_

_"Mmmyes." Katherine tapped absently at the glass stem against the perfume bottle. _

_Anna stood with her hands clasped in front of her. Being alone with Katherine was unusual. It almost made her nervous. In fact, she was quite sure that her mother did whatever was in her power to steer her away from Katherine. She never could understand why. Anna, although, found Katherine quite delightful. She was like a solitary rose in the bush. Beautiful, captivating and quite out of reach._

_"What is that there," she asked, gesturing to the bottle that sat innocently on Katherine's vanity._

_Katherine looked down at the bottle and smiled._

_"It's a present from the charming Damon Salvatore," she said sweetly. "Perfume from France."_

_Anna moved forward for a better look._

_"What a luxury," Anna said, "We've barely begun to get tea and sugar again and here Damon Salvatore is bequeathing you with exotic gifts."_

_"Very unexpected," Katherine bemused. She dipped the stopper back into the bottle._

_"Come here," she smiled, "Let us put a luxury on that lovely neck of yours."_

_Anna blushed and moved forward, gathering her skirts and sitting at Katherine's feet. Her dress was a modest dress in a dark shade of garnet. _

_Katherine turned in her chair and leaned towards Anna. She wore a pale pink gown of chiffon. Its neckline dipping low with a ruby brooch settled in center of her breasts. The front of her hair was pulled back and held together with flowered pins—dark ringlets of hair spilled around her like curled chocolate. _

_"Now close your eyes," Katherine said sweetly._

_Anna obliged. _

_Katherine removed the stem from the bottle and slid the cool glass from the back of Anna's ear and curled it down her neck. Her finger touched the tip of Anna's chin and she turned her face before running the stem along the other side of her neck. She leaned in towards her neck. Although she had no breath, Katherine, like other vampires, had the capability of interpreting scent in its purest form. Her nose, just barely, grazed against her skin. _

_Electricity flowed through Anna's veins suddenly and she shivered. _

_"Lovely," Katherine whispered._

_Just then, a light tread was heard on the stairs and the door of Katherine's room flung open. Katherine looked up lazily while Anna turned suddenly._

_Pearl stood at the door, her hands clenched into fists. _

_"Anna," she said shortly, "you are needed at home. Begin your studies until I arrive."_

_"But, mother, Katherine was just showing me-"_

_"Anna," she warned._

_Anna cast her eyes down for a moment before standing._

_"Yes, mother," she turned to Katherine, "Thank you for sharing your perfume."_

_"My pleasure, mon cher," Katherine purred carelessly as Anna walked out of the room._

_Pearl's eyes were blazing. Twin pools of dark fire. She slammed the door behind Anna, leaving her and Katherine alone._

_"Not my daughter, Katherine," she said sternly._

_Katherine batted her lashes._

_"I was just being a generous host to the lovely daughter of my best friend, Pearl. Do calm yourself. You look pained."_

_"Not my daughter," she repeated, almost pleading. She fell at Katherine's feet and grabbed her hands urgently._

_Katherine rolled her eyes._

_"She isn't really your daughter," Katherine said lazily._

_"She is in every way that counts. I've cared for her, nursed her."_

_"Oh yes. Little Anna. Your redemption," Katherine spat, pulling her hands away from Pearl. "And get up. You know begging doesn't work with me."_

_"She's all I have," Pearl's voice was hollow._

_"And she will always be yours."_

_"No. Not after you are done with her. When will it stop? You've recruited people from Beijing to Rome. Phuket to Athens. What are you doing? Creating a global harem? What are you searching for? When will you be appeased with what you have?"_

_"Never," she said coldly. "Never."_

* * *

_1 ½ years ago._

_Elena sat in the basement of the Salvatore Mansion. Her hand was chained to the wall, her head bowed. Her cries were weak, desperate. She had seen the woman in the cell, her head bleeding and her eyes glassy. And reality was a crushing wave. Stefan. His name struck fear in her breast so suddenly that she found herself shaking. Stefan's hand had come from behind her, clasping over her mouth. He chained her to the wall. His eyes were murderous, hungry. And the moment that he bit her, he recoiled with clarity. Sickened. _

_Stefan had gone. He begged her forgiveness and ran. Perhaps in his fear or perhaps intentionally, he left Elena down there. She screamed. She cried. She pulled helplessly at the heavy chain attached to her wrist. And she watched helplessly as the woman at her feet gurgled on her own blood. She shut her eyes as she began to convulse and she banged her head against the wall as the woman gasped her final breaths._

_"Stefan…" She whispered, conflicted in her love and disgust. Blood poured slowly out of her neck and she fell into a torturous sleep. _

_She dreamt of Stefan. Of Damon. Of being carried. Of bright lights and IVs._

_When she woke, before she even opened her eyes, she felt that she was not alone._

_Damon was slumped in a chair against the wall, watching her attentively._

_Elena opened her eyes, blinking against the light. Hospital lights._

_"Good morning," he said dully. _

_Elena struggled to sit up. Damon was at her side in a flash, pushing her back into the bed._

_"Relax," he said._

_"Stefan," she asked sorely, looking up._

_"Gone."_

_"Gone?"_

_"Yes. And he isn't coming back. Not for a very long time."_

_Elena turned her face away into the pillow and felt her throat close. And when she turned back around, Damon, too, was gone._

_Across the ocean, Stefan Salvatore placed his two feet onto Italian soil. His homeland. The afternoon sun shone brightly in the sky as he left the airport terminal and hailed a taxi. The drive the the Tuscan valley was a quiet one. His driver said little and Stefan wasn't inclined to engage him into conversation. In fact, the man's pulse was screaming in his ears and it took every shred of strength he had not to leap over the seat and kill him. Instead he concentrated on the round hills, the fields of flowers…anything and everything but blood and Elena._

_When he reached Sant'Antimo Abbey, it was well into the afternoon. The sun hung low in the sky and the humidity was so thick that Stefan could taste it. The abbey was beautiful. It was made of a dusky brick, each stone carefully and artfully placed. Stefan stood outside the taxi, his eyes squinting as he looked at the Romanesque structure. He looked upward at the belltower as the wooden door of the chapel opened and a friar walked out into the day. He was dressed in a dark robe, his face cloaked from the sun with a large hood. Stefan watched as he came near, his adam's apple bobbing nervously. The friar reached his pale arm out and pulled down his hood. _

_The man's features were Nordic, harsh. He could be called beautiful if his features remained serene. His eyes were crystal blue, almost like ice. His hair was closed clipped but his beard and mustache were long and ragged. _

_"Klaus," Stefan said softly._

_The man's smile was easy, calm. His soul was old. His knowledge surpassed anything Stefan could have possibly dreamed of. Stefan feared him. Loved him. In essence, he was his grandfather. Klaus. The vampire who sired Katherine._

_"I knew you'd come," he placed his hand on Stefan's shoulder and led him into the abbey._


	15. Danger

"Where did you go?"

Stefan looked up to find Elena standing in the doorway. She had come from a walk in the woods. And alone, she had finally allowed her mind to wander—to think about the last few years—to ask questions. It filled her with nerves but it was liberating. She wanted to know. When she came into the mansion, she saw Stefan quietly reading a book in the living room. She walked in slowly and took a seat opposite of him. She stared at him for a long moment, not knowing where to begin.

"When you…when you left. Where did you go?"

Stefan stared into the fireplace, his eyes vacant for a moment before turning back to her.

"Elena…there is something I need to say, first."

Elena grabbed a blanket that was draped over the back of the chair that she was in. She wrapped it over her legs and nodded, looking down.

"Okay…"

"I'm sorry." Silence filled the room.

Elena looked up as he continued, his gaze far away.

"I'm so sorry. For that night. I was crazy. I wish I could articulate it so you could understand…"

"Stefan?"

He looked up and into her eyes.

"Im a vampire now," she said softly. "I understand."

Stefan nodded.

"After that night in the basement…just being around you would have been dangerous. Your blood…I've never tasted anything like it before. It was like a drug. But I also became so…self aware. What I found was that I was a monster. And so I ran. The Salvatores are from Italy. My parents were born there. I guess I just ran to something that felt familiar. Something that felt…right. And when I stepped off the plane…just smelling the air and being away from everything. It felt right. I found a monastery not far from Tuscany. And I committed myself to penance and prayer. Elena, nothing is more liberating than letting your sin wash off of you. Of accepting a higher power."

"So you believe in God again?"

"Again," he asked. "I don't know if I ever stopped. I don't know the purpose of vampires. I don't know why God allowed it to happen. But I know he had to have allowed this. Nothing happens without his knowing. I don't know why this is my destiny. But I know I was turned for a reason more than just Katherine's thirst. There is a reason I was created. Just like there is a reason I am here…"

He trailed off, his eyes stared into her. There was a darkness, an intensity that was unsettling to her. It was almost like he was trying to steal her soul. She looked away, her rubbing absently at the back of her neck.

"And you came back because of me?"

"It's always been you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I had felt it for months I just…I tried to ignore it. I tried to forget you. But I felt it. I feel it. Don't you?"

"The only thing she feels is awkward."

Elena and Stefan turned suddenly to see Damon descending the stairs.

Damon turned to Elena. His eyes were bland but Elena had come to realize that it was a cloak. She could feel his anger. She stood then and went walked towards Damon. She clasped his hand in hers.

"Where have you been," she breathed, trying to change the subject.

"Out."

Damon's eyes looked curiously at Stefan. He turned back to Elena.

"I'd like a moment alone with my brother. Go upstairs and wait for me."

Elena looked from Damon to Stefan.

"Okay." She walked slowly upstairs, hoping to catch a shred of the conversation before she had gone.

Damon noticed her deliberate slow step and turned, watching her go up the stairs. God, she was beautiful. For a moment his heart swelled and when he realized it, he recoiled. He waited until she was out of earshot before he wandered into the living room. He sat where Elena was sitting and crossed his legs.

Stefan sat calmly, his arm lounging on the armrest while the other toyed the fringe on the pillow beside him. He looked up at Damon.

"You wanted a moment so…what do you want?"

"I'm not quite sure," Damon remarked, cocking his head to the side, studying his brother.

"I don't know what that is supposed to mean."

"It's not important. Look. We need to get one thing straight. The only reason you are here is because I need someone to guard Elena while I figure out what is going on in Mystic Falls. While I'm trying to save her from…whatever is out there that wants to hurt her. I didn't let you stay here for you to try and woo her with your word vomit."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Really? _I just feel it. Don't you? _Is that the best you have? Please stop, I'm getting second hand embarrassment. Have a little pride. You've _lost_."

Damon stood and turned towards the stairs

"You have no idea what we have."

Damon turned back to Stefan suddenly. He grabbed Stefan's collar into his fist and brought his face inches from his. His eyes were twin flames of blue fire. He calmed quickly and laughed, releasing his grip and moving away.

"I don't care what you had. Make no mistake. If you touch her, I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

Damon stopped in his tracks and turned towards Stefan.

"What?"

* * *

Meanwhie upstairs, Elena sat at her vanity, staring into the mirror. She placed her palms over her eyes. The friction was too much to bear. Being pushed and pulled into two different directions made her head spin.

"Finally, someone knows how I feel."

Elena froze for a long moment, her palms still over her eyes. A chill slide up her spine and poured ice into her veins. That voice. Her voice. _Please be a dream._ She removed her hands slowly from her lids, her eyes downcast. She could see the silhouette of the woman behind her. So many scenarios ran through her head as she looked into the reflection and stared into the eyes of Katherine.


	16. Gone

_**1864.**_

_ "They're onto us, I can feel it," Anna's voice carried fear. _

_Katherine took Anna's shoulders and turned her towards her._

_"Look at me," she demanded._

_Anna turned her face away, her eyes blurry with tears._

_Katherine placed her hands on either side of her face._

_"I need your strength. I need it now more than ever. Don't you love me?"_

_Anna looked into Katherine's eyes, her hand reaching up and intertwining with hers._

_"You know I do," she said passionately._

_Katherine leaned in, capturing her lips in hers._

_"Good," she breathed. "You are my wildflower, Anna. Be vigilant. We will survive. As we always have. Do not be afraid. They are beneath us."_

_She kissed her again. _

_"Now go home and pack. We will leave soon."_

_She pushed Anna out the door and shut her eyes. Being a lover to so many was a taxing affair. They all wanted to be coddled, loved and doted over. But having them in her life secured her safety. They would die for her, protect her. She could feel the dark cloud hovering over her and it frightened her. He was looking for her. And he wouldn't rest until he found her. His name was Klaus. He sired her 233 years ago in York, England. Charles I was on the throne and Katherine was 17 years old. The daughter of a wealthy Welsh aristocrat, Katherine was recently betrothed to a man 30 years her senior. It was a match that most pleased her parents and the York society. Katherine, on the other hand, was frightened, disgusted, and wasn't looking forward to marrying the older man. But before plans could be even arranged for the union, Katherine fell ill with a deadly bout of malaria. She had owed Emily her gratitude during her hour of need. It was she, through tears, confessed the existence of vampires. It was she, at Katherine's delirious insistence, who brought Klaus into her bedchamber. And as Katherine stared at him, a golden god, she knew this was her destiny. She accepted her fate and his fangs into her neck. She now had immortality, beauty and power. That in itself was an intoxicating elixir. And with a necklace (courtesy of Emily) that protected her from daylight, she felt invincible. Not a day after her miraculous recovery, did her father insist on a marriage date be set for Katherine and her older groom. She had no use for these mortal people. She had never been fond of her father—cold and distant. And her mother was a cruel and frigid woman who enabled her father's anger and abuse. Soon, an unfortunate "accident" befell the Pierce household. Katherine, freshly turned, lit the house aflame while her family, already dead, lay inside. She made sure they saw her contorted face before she sunk her teeth into their jugulars. The fire started in the living room. It quickly engulfed the entire house, leaving a plume of smoke to be seen for miles. Klaus was impressed with her ruthlessness. He was amused with her and often catered to her ridiculous whims. But he also had a dark temper and an immeasurable amount of jealousy. After over a century being under his guidance, she had done the unthinkable to Klaus. She had betrayed him. And since that day she had been running with her eyes peering over her shoulder. Should he should ever find her…_

_Katherine shuddered just as there was a knock at her door._

_Pearl strode in quickly without invitation._

_"We must leave. Tonight if possible."_

_"Not possible," Katherine said quickly._

_Pearl grabbed Katherine's arm._

_"Katherine, this isn't a game. Our lives are at stake."_

_"I'm well aware of what's at stake! I'm in the thick of it. If we steal away in the middle of the night, they will be onto us. Don't you think they would come after us? My God, Pearl!"_

_Pearl released her grip on Katherine, moving to the window._

_"Her scent is all over you," Pearl said softly._

_Katherine looked at her, a twinge of guilt curling over her heart. The feeling quickly dissipated. _

_"She came to me, if it makes any difference," she said quietly._

_"It doesn't."_

_"I didn't think it would."_

_Pearl turned back towards Katherine, blinking back tears before they could fall._

_"We have more pressing matters on our hands," Pearl said._

_"Yes."_

_"What will you have us do?"_

_"One week."_

_"You still plan to turn those boys," Pearl realized, incredulous._

_Katherine joined Pearl at the window. They watched the Salvatore brothers as they walked onto the plantation property from a recent quail hunt._

_"I want them," Katherine said dreamily, but her mind was somewhere else._

_"You're a fool."_

_"Am I," Katherine laughed lightly._

_"You'll be waving a red flag. They'll be after your head."_

_"By then, we will be long gone."_

* * *

**Present Day.**

"If you scream, you'll be dead before they reach the stairs."

Katherine's voice was husky and her dark eyes were dancing with mischievousness.

Elena blinked, her hands shaking. She placed her hands in her lap, balled into fists.

"I'm not going to scream."

* * *

"What did you say," Damon repeated, advancing towards Stefan.

"You won't kill me, Damon. You don't have it in you."

Damon's blood ran cold in his veins as Stefan looked up casually at him.

Damon's face contorted. His vangs became unsheathed, his eyes grew red and the veins in his face were bulged and pulsating. In an instant, he had Stefan's neck in his steel grasp and pinned to the floor. He reached for a dagger in his pocket and plunged the dagger swiftly into Stefan's shoulder.

Stefan roared in anguish, his eyes large. He struggled like a rabid dog.

* * *

Katherine moved closer as Elena sat on the vanity stool. Their eyes were locked to one another.

Just then, a scream filled the Salvatore Boarding House that was unmistakably Stefan. Elena gasped and turned. Katherine's hand came down like iron and clamped on to her shoulder, stilling her in her seat.

"Oh don't worry," she purred, "Our loves are just playing with each other."

She bent down and slid her tongue over Elena's ear.

"Do you want me to play with you?"

Elena twisted in her grip breaking her hand mirror as she moved away. She grabbed a large shard of glass and pressed herself against the wall, several feet away from Katherine. She held the glass threateningly.

"Don't come any closer, bitch," she said, fear echoing her tone.

Katherine giggled and clapped.

"Oh you have such spirit, my love."

"What do you want?"

"You, of course."

"I don't understand…"

"And you don't have to have to. That's the most beautiful thing about this…"

"It was you," Elena said suddenly, pointing the glass at her. "You've been in my room…"

Katherine smiled, saying nothing.

"I thought I dreamt it," Elena said. "But you were here…"

Revulsion filled her suddenly and anger snaked through her body like hot coils.

"No, love. You told yourself it was a dream to alleviate guilt. You told yourself it was a dream because you didn't want to handle the reality."

"And what is that? That you're not only psycho, that you're like…practically a rapist?"

"That you liked it."

Elena shook her head as Katherine moved slowly closer.

"That you _loved_ it. That you'll walk naked in front of the mirror and slide your hand down-"

Elena cried out and slashed her hand towards Katherine wildly. Katherine moved, pinning Elena's hands down at her sides so strongly and she yelped.

"The reality is, Elena, that you are as much as a narcissist as I. You're just wrapped in a pretty box w/ an innocent bow. Your eyes don't fool me, girl. I know your soul like the back of my hand. Tell me, has Damon ever called at my name while he's fucking you?"

* * *

"What were you saying about not having it in me," Damon asked between gritted teeth.

He twisted the knife and felt Stefan's sinewy muscles rip under the razored blade.

Stefan screamed again, his face now contorted. He tried to throw Damon off with his good arm but the pain was like fire…

"She'll never forgive you," he panted.

"She'll get over it."

Damon reached for a nearby chair and grabbed the leg. He slammed it into the floor. He clutched the leg, now splintered into a spike.

He raised it high over Stefan's chest.

"Wait…I can tell you where Katherine is…!"

* * *

"You're sick," Elena whispered.

"…and loving every minute of it."

"Damon never mentions you," Elena lifted her nose in the air, staring at Katherine. "He doesn't think about you. He doesn't miss you. All he wants is me. All he thinks about is me."

"Oh my love. You're delusional."

"Am I?"

"You're my carbon copy. My doppelganger. If he thinks of you, he is thinking of me. You are nothing. You're here because I made you."

Elena blinked.

"That's right, love. I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time. I hope you've had fun dancing in my shoes. Play time is over."

* * *

Damon stopped the stake right above Stefan's heart.

"What?"

"Katherine. She's alive."

"Really," he asked, disgusted. "Ugh, God. You're telling me yesterday's news, bro. Is that all you got?"

"She's in Mystic Falls."

Damon paused. "You're lying."

"No. I'm not."

"How do you know?"

"I've seen her. I've…"

"You've what?"

"She's back here for you," Stefan groaned.

Damon's eyes were slits and he twisted the knife suddenly.

"Explain. Now."

"She found me. In Italy. She-"

A blood curling scream echoed along the every wall and every corridor in the house. Both brothers looked up towards the stairs.

_Elena!_

Damon pulled the knife out of Stefan and in a flash he was up the stairs. Stefan, despite his pain, wasn't far behind. Damon flung the door of Elena's bedroom open. The wall, just beyond the vanity, had a bright smear of blood. It was so bright that it looked like paint. But the scent was unmistakable. It was Elena. And yet, the room was empty.

"Elena," Damon screamed.

Silence.

Damon turned at a small rustling sound. It was then he saw the window was open. The soft curtains billowed softly in the night breeze.

She was gone.


	17. Italy

**_1 year ago._**

_"You've been here six months, Stefan. Don't you think you should venture outside the walls of the monastery?"_

_Stefan was knelt on stone, his hands were tangled in rosary beads—carefully letting the cross dangle below his finger tips. He was in the middle of prayer when Klaus and another monk who followed Klaus like a shadow had come into the chapel. Stefan slowly opened his eyes._

_"I don't know if I'm ready."_

_Klaus put his hand on Stefan's shoulder._

_"We can never truly be certain unless we take a chance. Have faith in the Almighty to guide and protect you on your path to righteousness."_

_Stefan lowered his hands and after a moment, stood. He turned to Klaus._

_"I'm afraid," he confessed softly._

_"Fear is important, my son. That is your conscience."_

_"Where will I go?"_

_"Start small. Try walking into the town. I hear Benicia Gallo snares and sells live rabbits. Bring some back for us," he glanced at the other monk, " and of course, for the monks to cook the rest as they see fit."_

_The monk with Klaus placed several Euros in his hand. His hand was strongly and reassuringly over Stefan's for a long moment. He said nothing but his eyes were alert, deep._

_"Do you ever venture off these lands," Stefan asked aloud._

_Klaus smiled strangely._

_"I'm bound to these lands. We are intertwined. No. I am meant to be here and here only. I'm resigned to it."_

_Stefan nodded, his fingers clutching the Euros._

_"I won't be long."_

_Klaus nodded._

_"Take all the time you need."_

_Castelnuovo dell'Abate was a small inhabited medieval town that rose on a small hill not far from the abbey. The town was made up a few houses along the road and then there was nothing. A small farm was located not a long walk away so Stefan decided to take a leisurely if nervous stroll to purchase things for the monks and he. _

_Benecia Gallo was a lovely girl of nineteen. Her hair was the color of raven feathers and her eyes were much of the same. Her eyebrows were thick and arched, making even her kindest words seems tinged with sarcasm. She wore no makeup and was leaning, barefoot, on the bumper of her father's car. Stefan had seen her in the church several times and had exchanged short pleasantries with her. When she caught sight of him, she smiled._

_"I was beginning to think that you had a magnet inside you that kept you in the chapel," she said in Italian. _

_Stefan laughed and explained that he was trying to be more social. He inquired about the rabbits and said he would take a dozen. When he put the Euros in her hand, he felt her pulse. Her heart was beating as fast as a rabbit. Her blood was swishing and swirling from her heart and through her veins. He quickly put his hand at his side and cleared his mind. Soon, he forgot about the blood inside of her and instead enjoyed her conversation. It was a wonderful feeling. He said a short prayer and thanked God. He ended up giving her more money than she asked for. He didn't mind. In return, she offered to carry one of the baskets to the chapel. No one was allowed on the church grounds unless it was during a service. And even then, it was under the watchful eyes of several guides. Women were explicitly forbidden in the private chambers of the monks. Stefan knew this. He didn't, though, want to offend Benecia's kindness and accepted her offer._

_I'll let her in through the kitchen and have her back outside in a minute. We can crisscross through the vineyard so we don't get in trouble, he thought._

_He smiled thinking of Klaus's admonishment if they were caught._

_"The abbey has strict rules," he imagined him saying. Klaus. He was such a strange man. In the last 6 months, he learned nothing more than what Klaus wanted him to know. And that other monk was never far behind from him. Especially during church services. Why, Stefan didn't know._

_"Why are you smiling," the girl asked._

_"I'm just…enjoying the beauty of today," Stefan said in perfect Italian. She blushed lightly as they walked through the olive grove. Soon the back door of the abbey came into view. Stefan stopped and turned._

_"I can only let you in for a second. Just to put the rabbits down. You aren't supposed to be on holy ground, I could get in trouble."_

_"Your secret is safe with me," she whispered._

_Stefan smiled. The walked into the large kitchen and settled the cages on the counter. The rabbits were rather hyper, jumping against the walls of the cage._

_The girl covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. Stefan grabbed her hand and led her outside. They looked behind them at the closed door and laughed._

_Benecia gasped as she turned forward and bumped straight into Klaus's chest. Klaus stilled her with one hand, the other holding a basket of grapes. Not forty paces behind Klaus was another monk. His attention was on his fallen basket of grapes that he frustratingly threw back in the wicker container._

_"Um," Stefan said quickly, "Senorita Gallo was helping me bring the rabbits…"_

_Klaus said nothing, instead his eyes were nearly in awe of the girl in front of him._

_"You work faster than I imagined," he said softly._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Of course, I was counting on your good looks…I've tried but have been foiled so many times by the brethren…And then you came…"_

_Benecia couldn't speak English and looked at Stefan in confusion. Stefan looked from Klaus to Benecia and back again. The breeze was suddenly non-existent and the sun and fallen into the path of clouds. The birds were hushed on their perches. _

_"Klaus," Stefan said quizzically._

_Klaus's hand shook as he reached out and let his fingertips glide over the girl's hair. Stefan watched as Klaus's eyes dilated into small saucers. Benecia's stance became relaxed._

_"Shh, bella," he said soothingly. _

_Just then, a scream was heard behind Klaus. It was the monk. Grapes spilled once again on the ground as the man's eyes were large with fear as he ran straight for them. Stefan jerked in alarm. Everything rushed at once. Klaus's face contorted and in an instant, Benecia was in his embrace. His head moved like lightning against her neck. Stefan heard the ripping of her skin as he forced his fangs into her. Before Stefan could even react, Klaus clamped his teeth deep in her throat. Klaus grabbed the girl's head and pulled her in the opposite direction of his mouth. A distorted moan escaped the her lips as her jugular was pulled from her neck. Blood sprayed Stefan over his eyes and spilled onto the earth. It sprayed like champagne from its bottle. It's metallic, earthy aroma flooded Stefan's senses. And as Stefan blinked, reaching for her, Klaus was gone._

_The monk reached them and fell onto the ground, his hand over Benecia's neck as she convulsed underneath the olive trees. Tears fell from the monk's eyes as he spoke._

_"What have you done?_

* * *

_Not even an hour after Benecia's death and Klaus's disappearance, Stefan's bags had been packed and was banished from the abbey without so much as a goodbye. What had happened? Where was Klaus? What was Klaus even talking about? They offered him no answers and said only that the requirement of their subservience was now severed. They pushed him into a taxi as they clutched their crosses and threw a wad of money at him. He was driven to Lucca and left just inside of the city. _

_Stefan hadn't felt this lost since he left Mystic Falls. God. Mystic Falls. His heart lurched at the thought of Elena. He wondered how she was doing but was too afraid to call. Stefan wandered about, carrying his luggage, not knowing where to go. He found a deserted barn outside the other end of town and dropped his shoulders. This was his new home, he supposed. _

_He had not been in town for two days before strange stories of a wild animal on the loose began to be told. No one was safe. Several men, women and children had fallen victim to the beast. It was assumed to be a large wild dog but Stefan knew better. It had to be Klaus. _

_Two days later, while wandering through town, a man caught his eye. He was beautiful. Olive skin, dark eyes and dark curly hair. But his eyes...they were vacant, dilated. The hair raised on the back of Stefan's neck. He was being compelled. It was so obvious to him. He followed the man at a distance and watched as he went into Hotel Noblesse. He watched as the he wandered into the hotel restaurant. The man walked towards the bar, towards a woman with dark hair whose back was turned away from Stefan. The man bent towards the woman's ear and whispered something. She lifted her head quickly and turned to the man. She was very still for a moment before nodding and dismissing him with a lift of her hand. The woman turned in her seat towards the bar and Stefan's heart froze in his chest._

_Elena._

_She had found him. Joy, fear, adulation filled him like a balloon. He watched as Elena stood and walked upstairs towards her room. Stefan moved like a cat and followed her upstairs. Elena turned the corner and procured a key from her pocket, she placed it in the door lock and turned it. She opened the door but left it wide open. Stefan paused before walking into the room._

_She was laying on the bed, a long cigarette in her hand. Her lips curved she she blew the smoke into rings._

_"Shut the door," she said softly._

_Stefan shut it behind him. And then he realized..._

_There was no heartbeat. And the way she was staring at him now…_

_"Katherine," he was nearly shaking._

_"Hello, lover. It's been a long time."_


	18. Succession

_1741. Italy._

_"Get me out of this country," Katherine said, her voice shaking._

_She stood on the balcony of hers and Klaus's villa. Her rose velvet sack back gown was billowing in the breeze, her hair was pinned back in a subdued fashion. The neckline was modest with an ermine trim and a ribbon bow at her bodice. She was not dressed as the Katherine that Damon and Stefan would come to know. She was muted, unassuming._

_Klaus's laugh was rich and full bodied._

_His blond hair was darkened by the Italian sun and his face had a unique glow that wasn't found on many vampires. He walked behind Katherine and leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder._

_"I humor you on many things, Katerina. Because you are mine and I am quite taken with you. I fear you have caught onto this and are beginning to use it to your advantage. I caught you acting like a coquette with that man who was to be your dinner a month ago. You've disappeared for a fortnight without my permission. You've dressed inappropriately and brought shame to our home." _

_His large hand came up and his hand came lightly to her throat, asserting enough pressure._

_"Do as I say," he whispered._

_"We are in the midst of Austria's succession and everyone including Italy, has a hand in it," she whispered passionately. "Will you have me in the middle of this conflict? To be injured, burned or tortured by the hands of barbaric imperialists?" _

_"There is no fighting in Italy, you foolish girl."_

_"Yet."_

_"You've been eavesdropping."_

_Katherine gave Klaus a sidelong glance and moved away._

_"I cannot help my keen sense of hearing."_

_"No, I suppose not. And what would you have me do, Princess?"_

_Katherine fell onto their bed._

_"Anywhere but here. France. Russia. America…somewhere I can be entertained! The Vatican has banned opera, for God's sake!"_

_"Is that all you care for? Opera? And there is nothing in American but thieves, charlatans and…and puritans!"_

_"Klaus," she chastised._

_"The answer is no. Now I expect there to be a girl here when I return. I will be starving. Make sure she has been cleaned. Don't bringing me homeless filth like last time." _

_Klaus grabbed his belonging and left the room, closing the door behind him._

_"Find your own damn meals, you controlling bastard," she yelled to no one. She dissolved into a mess of tears, her arm bent over her face._

_She heard Emily enter and turned her back. Emily sat on the edge of the bed. She took Katherine's free hand._

_"We can run away," Emily whispered._

_Katherine lifted her head quickly._

_"Madness," she responded. "There is no running from Klaus. We are connected, him and I. He would find me. Treachery is inexcusable. He'd kill me. Kill us."_

_"Then stay," Emily snapped. "And get used to this. This is your life. For eternity."_

_Katherine sat up. "Bite your tongue. I'm in pain as is. I don't need your mockery. Or you forgetting your place?"_

_"You're stronger than this," Emily relented._

_"I'm not."_

_Emily cupped Katherine's face in her hands._

_"Look at me."_

_Katherine looked towards Emily._

_"You are strong. You are Katherine Pierce of the Pierce dynasty. You are one of the last of your family. You have overcome and conquered. You are over a century old, are you not? My Katherine fears no one. Does she?"_

_It was as if something has just slipped into place. As if a puzzle was finally placed into the right angle. She was Katherine. Who was Klaus? Her maker, yes. Not her owner. They could escape. They could go to America and begin anew. They could find others like themselves. Yes._

_A smile formed on her lips._

_"Yes. Tonight," she said, excited._

_She leaned in and kissed Emily on the mouth with joy. She paused. In all of her life with Klaus, she had never been unfaithful. She never dreamed of touching another person. Part out of fear and part out of loyalty. And kissing Emily was thrilling, liberating. It wasn't about being attracted to one gender or the other. It was the power. She saw the vulnerability in Emily's eyes and she pounced on it like a hawk to prey. She thrived on it. She grabbed Emily's collar roughly and pulled her face back towards her. Emily dodged her lips, turning her face to the side._

_"Katherine," she whispered._

_"Say nothing," Katherine whispered back. "We are celebrating." _

_She grabbed Emily's face and pressed her lips to hers. She could feel Emily's tension and trepidation. Emily had no lover. Occasionally, Klaus would find her bed but usually when he was drunk or fighting with Katherine. Katherine, though, was never jealous. She owed everything to Emily. And she knew that Emily loathed those interactions with Klaus. And this? This was different. It was soft. It was passionate. She felt Emily's apprehension melting away. It was like drifting in a river of champagne. Katherine's mouth slanted over Emily's again and again. She grabbed a first full of Emily's dress and hiked it up her thigh. And then…_

_"You disloyal little harlot," Klaus's voice was fire._

_Katherine bolted up right and stumbled out of the bed, smoothing her skirts. _

_"Klaus!"_

_Klaus's eyes were blazing with passionate jealousy. He advanced forward and like lightning, he had Emily by the hair, yanking her from the bed like a ragdoll. The girls screamed and Katherine rushed at them. She tried to pry Klaus's hand loose as he dragged Emily towards the door. Klaus hit her across the face with his back hand so forcefully that Katherine fell back into her mirror. The mirror crashed to the floor spilling glass along the ground like diamonds. Blood poured from Katherine's mouth as she ran at Klaus again, begging. She saw his hand come down her again with a vengeance. And then there was nothing…_

* * *

_It was water droplets falling into her mouth that awoke Katherine. Her face was throbbing as she opened her eyes. She was lying on her side, her hands bound behind her back. Emily was on her side as well, facing Katherine. They were in the back of a rack-wagon, covered in a large blanket. Katherine listened as the hooves of horses pounded against the earth. She could feel the nearness of Klaus and knew he had to be driving the carriage. The air smelled of earth, of rain. The blanket was slowly soaking in the water that sprinkled from the heavens. Katherine knew she was about to die. She didn't care call out to Emily because she knew Klaus would hear. Instead she stared at her; silently pleading for her to open her eyes. And as if she heard Katherine's thoughts, Emily's eye fluttered open. They laid there, saying nothing, staring at eachother. They willed the each other to read each others mind. And it was a bare whisper. It was startling to Katherine. She had never been able to communicate this way before. But this gave way to excitement and her thoughts projected louder. A plan was formulated. Emily shut her eyes, her mouth forming words with no sound. A thunderclap filled the air and lightning lit the sky so brightly that even they, under the blanket, were illuminated. Emily's eyes were black orbs and then veins on her neck bulged as she writhed, her head banging back against the wood of the cart…_

_Time had not cooled the anger in Klaus's heart as they he had driven the cart into the hills of Tuscany. He wanted to be far enough away from the city so that no one would hear them scream. While it pained him to kill Katherine, she had proven disloyal on many occasions and was not worthy of any affection. He didn't want it to be quick. No. He wanted to prolong it as long as possible. On the horizon, Klaus saw a small chapel. He had anticipated being alone and this was bothersome. _

_"It'll have to do," he said aloud. _

_He pulled on the reins of the horses, already skittish from the storm, and stopped them underneath in the middle of an olive grove. He tethered them to a branch and walked to the back to the wagon. He pulled the blanket off and revealed the emptiness of the wagon. Their ropes were all that was left behind. He roared and turned quickly, the lightning illuminating the hills. Just ahead of the grove, his eyes connected with Katherine. She had turned a cautionary look behind as she was being pulled ahead by Emily._

_"Katherine," his screams filled the air, even at this distance—even above the thunder._

_"He's seen us. For the love of Christ—run for your life!"_

_He was like a wild boar. He charged across the ground, unsheathing his sword as he ran. It was now that Katherine truly felt understanding why other vampire had cowered in the face of Klaus. He was the personification of Murder. This was why he was an old one. He was ruthless, dangerous, unrelenting._

_"Faster," Emily begged._

_Just then, a church came into view._

_"Get inside, get inside!"_

_"But what if there are crosses?"_

_"I can survive a burn, I can't survive being staked," Katherine screamed. They flung open the doors into the chapel and shut them behind them._

_Silence._

_"Quick," Emily whispered desperately. "It's not safe. He'll corner us if we stay in here. Make haste out of the back. It'll buy us time."_

_They ran through the center of the pews as a monk shouted at them in Italian. Katherine bared her fangs as she ran and the monk shrank back in fear and made the sign of the cross. They flew through a kitchen and out of the back of the chapel. They ran across a field and found themselves in the middle of a vineyard. _

_Emily stopped suddenly and looked back at the chapel._

_"Sit. Now."_

_"What?"_

_"Do it. I can stop him. I just—we have to stop. I have to concentrate."_

_They sat in the mud, hands clinging to one another. Emily's threw her head back as she chanted and beckoned the aid of the ancient pagan God, Buku._

_"Buku, here my call…"_

_Klaus burst into the chapel._

_"I bind thee, Klaus, vampire of the old world, to these lands. Do thy bidding. I bind thee…"_

_Klaus stumbled passed the pews passed a shaking monk that pointed towards the kitchen._

_"Until virgin blood pours forth onto the earth…I bind thee to these land and these men…"_

_He burst out of the back, shaking, swinging his head towards the vineyard._

_"Katherine!"_

_Katherine clutched Emily's fists tighter._

_"He's coming…" She pitched forward, her knees digging into the mud._

_Klaus fell to the ground. He lifted his head and saw Katherine down the row of grape vines. He was like a man possessed. It wasn't just that he had found her with Emily. It was that she was running from him, her maker. She was beneath him. She was a small pile of nothing dying in a fit of malaria when he came to her. He pulled himself up and barreled towards them. He lifted his sword, screaming._

_Emily's voice was louder, stronger._

_Katherine jumped up and stumbled back as Klaus came and swung his sword back, rage filled into his eyes. The sky went white for a fraction of a second. And before Klaus could direct the sword towards Katherine's neck, the white light enveloped him. He fell to his knees and crumbled into a heap, moaning pathetically until he was unconscious. The girls stood, hands clasped, staring down at him. Katherine looked up towards the heavens and back at Emily. Katherine collapsed beside Klaus, cradling his head in her lap._

_"You would have never let me leave," she said sadly. "You would have never let me go…"_

_Emily placed her hand on Katherine's shoulder._

_"We must move quickly."_

_They dragged him into the chapel by the heel of his boot, tracking a trail of mud and grass behind him._

_The monks had gathered around them, clutching their crosses. She could feel the heat and burning of their relic but bit down on her tongue._

_Katherine looked up, pushing the hair out of her eyes. She lifted her head._

_"You'd do well to protect him," she said in Italian. "He is bound to you and these lands. Watch him. He is cunning. And should he ever spill virgin blood on these lands…"_

_She made a sign of the cross and felt it burn across her breast as she stared at the giant crucifix at the end of the pews._

_Just then, Klaus moaned lightly, his eyes still closed._

_"I'll find a way," he whispered._

_Katherine looked down at him for a long moment._

_"I know you will, my love. I'll be waiting."_


	19. Prisoner

**Present.**

Elena was bound to a chair—her mouth gagged and her hands held in chains behind her back. The room smelled musty and a dank atmosphere enveloped her. It was dark, but not so dark that her vampire senses kicked into night vision.

The room was large, bare. The floor was concrete riddled with cracks through the foundation. Above there was a large hole in the ceiling where vines spilled through like an octopus into a sunken ship. Moss glittered across the floor like a vast green expanse of carpet. Katherine sat behind her with her back against the wall, a black Russian cigarette was settled in between her fingers as it burned slowly towards the filter.

"He's crossed the pond," she said aloud.

Elena jerked in her chair and pulled at the chains, her screams muffled by the rag tied in her mouth.

"Shhh," Katherine, cooed. "No one can hear you."

She stood and flicked the cigarette across the room. It bounced onto the damp moss and hissed as the glow dimmed to nothing. She walked towards Elena and stood in front of her. She titled her head, staring at her for a long moment. She moved, straddling herself across Elena's lap and pulled the gag down to her throat.

Elena's teeth were bared and she lunged her mouth forward at Katherine. Katherine jerked back, paused, and then laughed.

"So much fire," she mused.

"What do you want with me," Elena cried.

"It's not what I want, mon amie, its what _he_ wants…"

She ran her finger down the side of Elena's face.

"He who? What are you talking about?"

Katherine leaned into Elena's ear.

"You'll see…"

Elena lunged her mouth at Katherine's neck and clamped down as hard as she could. Katherine's dark blood filled her mouth. Elena couldn't describe the taste. She wanted to give her pain, to rip her neck apart but Katherine's blood was singing to her. Katherine was calm and did not cry out. Instead she reached around and grabbed Elena underneath her jaw and pulled her back. She slid off her lap and pushed Elena to the floor, her head banging against concrete, her body tilting into the chair. Elena laid still, dazed, blood dripping from her mouth. Her eyes fluttered, attempting to focus while Katherine stared down at her. She bent down and got on her knees and loomed over Elena.

"Don't you see? You're my failsafe…that's what you were created for."

Her finger smeared the blood over Elena's lips.

"You're not truly real, don't you understand? You were my protection. I just never knew when or where you'd rise from. I didn't know of your existence until Stefan-"

Elena eyes focused on Katherine.

"Stefan?"

"Yes. Our lovely Stefan."

And then she reached down and kissed her.

* * *

_One year ago._

_"…and so Klaus escaped…" Katherine asked, trying to keep the edge from her voice. _

_"It was so bizarre," Stefan said as he stared off in the distance. "He just…vanished."_

_Stefan turned on his side, watching Katherine's profile. They had laid in bed and talked for over an hour._

_"You know…I started to tell myself that maybe you and Elena weren't so alike. That maybe your noses were different, or your mouth had less of a perfect pout than hers but…" He drifted off._

_Katherine wrung her hands in her lap as she turned to Stefan._

_"Tell me more about her."_

_"Elena?"_

_"Yes."_

_And so Stefan proceeded to tell her about how he met Elena. How full of life she was. Of how smart and charming she was._

_"…I love her," he said finally._

_Katherine turned towards Stefan, feeling jealousy course her veins._

_"And what of Damon?"_

_"He's keeping an eye on things, I imagine."_

_"Does he…speak of me," she asked lightly._

_And idea formed in her mind._

_"Not anymore."_

_"I see," she paused, "When are you going back?"_

_"Not for a long time."_

_"And you're okay with leaving him with Elena?"_

_"Yes…" he started._

_"You're okay with her leaning on him while vulnerable? Especially with your past?"_

_Stefan paused. "Of course."_

_That night he wrote a letter and every other day following. No response. Dread begin to fill him. He tried to stave it off but it was driving him mad. He and Katherine travelled to Spain on a whim. Even on hotel stationary he wrote his brother but not a word. One night he called Elena's house and Jenna answered._

_"Hello?"_

_"Jenna, hey—its Stefan. Is Elena around?"_

_Silence._

_"…hey look, maybe this is a bad time," he said suddenly._

_"She doesn't live here anymore. She lives with Damon. You'd know that if you ever called. You have a lot of nerve looking for her now."_

_Click._

_She lives with Damon. With Damon. Damon._

_He wanted to tear his brother apart. It was déjà vu all over again. That night Katherine took Stefan to a bar. She listened as he purged his thoughts. She gave him drink after drink after drink until he could barely stand._

_"Cmon, big boy," she put her arm around Stefan and guided him to their room._

_"I would sell my soul to the devil to have her back," he muttered._

_Katherine smiled._

* * *

**Present.**

"So that's it," Elena said softly.

"You helped Stefan in exchange for what? Damon?"

"Don't be foolish. Damon is a fringed benefit. A delicious fringed benefit. But no. Don't you see? Stefan isn't getting anything. The one I wanted was you. I just used Stefan to get Damon out of the way. He just doesn't know it. It's always been you. I've been waiting for you for 146 years for us to meet."

* * *

**_1864._**

_"Vervain," Katherine gasped, clutching at her throat._

_"Katherine! Katherine!"_

_Stefan's face loomed over Katherine but he became a blur and his voice became hollow and far away._

_"I'm dying," she thought. She stayed too long. Where was Pearl? Emily? Anna? Dear God…_

_Then darkness._

_When she came to, it was the voices of both Stefan and Damon that caught her ear. The sound of leaves crunching underneath their feet filled her ears. A gunshot rang out and to Katherine's horror, Damon fell dead beside her. And then Stefan fell…their eyes connected until his closed. She was then put in the back of a paddy wagon and taken away. The barred wagon rocked back and forth through the forest. Katherine found a bit of strength as she laid motionless. She hadn't consumed much vervain, she realized. Soon she struggled to sit up. So when the guard swung open the door, she locked eyes with him and compelled him to free her. He was enchanted and did her bidding quickly. She killed him swiftly and viciously for his trouble. She had to find Emily and get away. Emily was the only one she could rely on to protect her above all. From there, she could find Pearl, Anna and the rest of her brood._

_Katherine tore through the woods in the dead of night, weakened and pained with vervain still in her system. She smelled the fire before she saw it. A stake was erected in the center of a clearing. A large group of men carried torches and were talking excitedly. Katherine scanned the area quickly and gasped. There tied together beside a large French Mulberry was Emily and several members of her family. Her heart dropped. For years, Emily had searched for her family and had finally located them in Mystic Falls. And though it bored Katherine to come to Virginia when she'd been having such a lovely time in New York, she came because Emily was her best and most trusted friend. And here they were—torn out of bed and bound together all the while being jeered at and called "witches." The realization was tantamount to a heart attack. They were going to be burned. They were going to be burned and there was nothing that Katherine could do about it. She was one vampire against a legion of men w/ vervain, fire, and stakes. She had to try._

_She stalked through the darkness and prayed that none of the men were alerted of her presence. She crouched behind the Mulberry bush. She called Emily's name softly, which got the attention of her kin. Emily leaned back, her eyes still on the crowd and spoke in a low tone._

_"Get my family out of here."_

_"Yes. And you. Tell me what to do."_

_"I'll distract them. I'll tell you when," she paused and turned her face to the side, carefully looking back at Katherine. "I'm going to protect you."_

_"Yes, hurry…" Katherine whispered hurriedly. _

_"No. Listen."_

_"Emily, now is not the time…"_

_"You've done right by me for a long time, Katherine. We have been running for a long time—looking for my family and keeping a far from Klaus's extended reach. One day, he will escape. And when he does—you must be cautious. I have a gift to protect you. Find your kin."_

_"My kin?"_

_"Your brother carried your bloodline. The Pierce family thrives. Find them. Watch them. One day a baby will be born. This baby will have no soul as she has been conjured by magic. Its blood will be darkness. She will be your mirror image. She will protect you."_

_Just then, the sharp eye of one of the men caught sight of Katherine lurking in the brush and sounded the alarm. Katherine yanked the closest girl next to her as the bounds melted away with magic._

_ "Run!" _

_"Go!"_

_They ran. Thick brush cut their faces as they darted through the woods. Katherine smelled their blood but her fear was greater. _

_She heard a scream and turned back. She stopped in her tracks as she saw Emily surrounded, her hands outstretched. A man with a pitchfork thrust it into Emily's torso. She roared and her eyes turned black. The man burst into flames, as did several other men. The screams were horrifying, pitiful. Another man tackled Emily. Then another. And another. They carried her, struggling, to the stake. Two fell dead at her feet and the others bound her and struck her across the face. A boy brandishing a torch rushed forward from the group. He couldn't have been more than eight years old. She saw Emily's face turn slack as he came near. Her gaze turned into the woods. Could she see Katherine and her family lurking in the dark? She closed her eyes and raised her head heavenward as the boy pressed the torch into her hoop skirt. She did not scream as the flame licked across her body and held her in its fiery embrace. When her body went limp, Katherine knew she was gone. Dead. She stood there watching her burn for a long moment before the tug of one of her relatives averted her attention. She turned to their devastated faces and lifted her chin._

_"It's over," she said softly. "We must go."_

* * *

**Present.**

Elena blinked, saying nothing. Katherine had untied her from the chair and they were sitting on opposite sides of the room.

"…I have a soul," she offered up meekly. "This is ridiculous."

Katherine shrugged.

"What makes you think I'm going to protect you—and protect you from what," she asked tiredly.

"It doesn't matter who. And I know because I'll make sure of it."

She stood and walked towards Elena, who stood in kind. She waited until Elena looked at her before her eyes dilated.

"You will protect me, wont you," Katherine asked sweetly, taking her hand.

Elena's eyes dilated, compelled, and she spoke like a robot.

"I'd die for you."


	20. Thermopylae

**Present. **

"Just stop fucking talking," Damon spat.

He was behind the wheel of his car with Stefan riding shotgun. Stefan's face was covered in blood, his jaw slightly concave and his orbital bone crushed causing his eye to stay blood red. His body was slow to heal and was in obvious pain.

Damon right fist, clutching the wheel, was swollen and all along his arm was dried flecks of Stefan's blood. When they had found Elena's room empty, Damon turned on Stefan like a wild animal. He had ground his fist into Stefan's face with a vehemence he had never experienced. The fury that coursed through his veins was unfathomable. But along side that fury was fear. It was cold, shaking and terrifying fear. The thought of Elena being dead had plagued heavy on his thoughts. Though he had no proof, he knew she had to be with Katherine. There was no other explanation. Katherine. That in itself was another blow. He had known she was alive, yes. But to actually know that she was in Mystic Falls rocked him to the core and he didn't know what to feel. He didn't have time to analyze it.

They drove to the small hotel outside of town where Katherine had been staying. When they burst into the room, they found it empty. It was freshly cleaned by housekeeping and not a soul in sight. When Damon spoke to the front desk attendant, he discovered that she had checked out the night before—probably before she went to the Boarding House. Damon stalked back to the room to find Stefan sitting on the bed, his hand held protectively over his eyes.

"What," Damon asked impatiently.

"Nothing," Stefan said, defeated.

"Oh it hurts," Damon mocked. "Fucking good. I'm glad. If you weren't being useful with information, you'd be dead right now."

"I thought she wanted you…I thought she was helping me…"

"Well, you thought wrong. And instead Elena could be dead because of you."

"Let's go."

As Damon turned, his eyes fell on a small table near the window. There, in the middle of the table, was a withering flower. Damon walked slowly towards it and carefully picked it up. It was an English Rose.

Damon turned back to Stefan.

"We need to go back to the Salvatore estate."

"We can be there in ten minutes," Stefan said and stood.

"Not _that_ house."

He lifted the flower for Stefan to see. The two brothers stared at each other for a moment before sprinting towards the car.

How was she even being compelled?

Elena felt as if she was drowning. Katherine was somehow using all of her control to keep her sedate and in compliance. Every now and again it was as if her head bobbed above water and she could breathe. But then she was violently pulled back into the dark abyss, buried under crushing waves.

"He's near," Katherine whispered into Elena's ear. Her tongue flicked over her lobe and she purred.

Elena cold not discern herself from Katherine. Everything was a blur. And when she did have fleeting moments of consciousness, she was unhinged at Katherine's story. Soulless? There was no way. Was there? Several full bloomed roses were pressed towards her face. Katherine laid them beside her moved about the room.

"Don't they smell lovely," Katherine asked. "Emily and I planted them in the Salvatore garden before we were…"

She trailed off for a moment before speaking again, "They were still growing, wild, in the thicket."

She turned towards Elena who was laying on the moss filled ground, her hair splayed out like a fan. She twitched every now and again, writhing in a muddled confusion. She looked up at Katherine.

"Damon…" She whispered into the silence.

Katherine tilted her head and stared down at Elena.

"Soon," Katherine whispered back.

She sunk to the floor beside her, her fingers threading through Elena's hair. She slunk on top of her, her lips kissing Elena all over her face. Her forehead, her closed eyes, her nose, her cheeks and finally…

Elena was suddenly hungry for Katherine. Why, she did not know. But when their mouths connected, the fuse was powerful, magnetic. Elena felt like she _belonged_. She knew that Katherine felt it too. Elena wanted to be inside her. Not in so much in sexual terms, but she wanted to be in her. She wanted to flow through her veins like blood, to feel her from the inside, to wrap around Katherine's spine and feel through her fingers. She wanted to be _her. _Katherine pulled back suddenly, shuddering sharply. She stared down at Elena, her eyes filled with trepidation. She felt it too. She felt the power that was emitting from Elena. And she wanted to consume it. She wanted to take it and claim it for her own. She wanted to swallow it whole. It was too opposite forces colliding together and meshing into one another. Elena reached her mouth to Katherine's again. Their tongues swirled around each other—light and dark. The room was cold. And the only sound was that of two mouths connecting with each other again and again. Katherine hand, cold, slid underneath Elena's shirt and pulled it over her breasts. Her tongue, like ice, lowered to Elena's nipple. She bit, teased…as her other hand slid to her hip, pressing against her…

"Tell me I'm beautiful," Katherine demanded in between kisses.

"I'm beautiful," Elena moaned lighly.

"Mmm, that's right…"

"Wouldn't you do anything for me?" She nipped at Elena's cool skin.

"…yes."

* * *

Damon and Stefan walked quietly through the wood, to the old Salvatore plantation. It had surrendered to the wilderness long ago, the foundation barely visible through the brush. But they knew this place as well as the back of their hand. They grew up here—this place was tangled into their souls.

Damon's eyes surveyed quickly. He could smell something. Smell them—the scent of jasmine mingling with heady roses. But he could see nothing. A crow cawed in the distance.

As they walked across the property, flashes of memory came to Damon. He remembered running across the garden and into his mother's arms. She was soft, wonderful, beautiful. He remembered cowering outside of her bedroom as she gave birth to Stefan. Oh, her screams…! He remembered the midwife telling his father that she was dead. He remembered staring into Stefan's crib. He remembered catching frogs near the creek. He remembered the first moment he laid eyes on Katherine…he remembered watching this place burn to the ground. Just then, he noticed the earth was unusually soft and nearly giving way under his foot.

The basement. He snapped his finger, getting Stefan's attention, and gestured downward.

They found a large hole in the ground, darkness below. Damon jumped in quickly, his feet delivering a soft thud as he landed on the soft, mossy earth of the basement. There used to be rows of wine stacked down here long ago, his father's pride. And then…

They stood in the corner, in the shadows, hand in hand. Two beautiful mirror images of the other. They were beautiful darkness.

Katherine surveyed Damon. "Hello, lover. How I've missed your face..."

"Let her go," Damon demanded.

"Shhh, not so fast."

Stefan was now beside him.

"So you've defected to the other side," her tone was full of amusement.

"You lied to me," Stefan said.

"You seem surprised. Come, now."

Damon advanced a step.

"Ah Ah," she put up a finger. "I'll kill her. You know I will."

"What do you want," Damon asked between gritted teeth. If he could just get closer…

"Nothing you have to offer."

"Then why did you bring us here," Stefan asked.

Damon turned back at the sound of Stefan's voice then looked towards Katherine and Elena.

"To say goodbye."

Just then Elena twisted her arm and pitched Katherine forward into the wall. Katherine stumbled and fell to her knees as Elena, head down, ran with terror across the room and into Stefan's arms.

Damon furrowed his brow, staring across the room at Katherine.

"Well…that was anti-climactic."

Katherine's hands gripped the wall and she was laughing. Stefan retreated back a ways with Elena who was cowering into his chest. Damon turned and watched them. The revulsion that clutched his heart was swift and cruel. He watched as Stefan smoothed Elena's hair and kissed her forehead, offering comforting words to soothe her.

Katherine continued laughing crazily, it nearly sounded like crying, but her back was still turned.

"Let's go," Damon said, annoyed.

"Have you ever heard the prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi," Katherine half snickered, half sobbed.

All three of them moved to leave as she began to recite:

"_O ye men who dwell in the streets of broad Lacedaemon!_  
_Either your glorious town shall be sacked by the children of Perseus,_  
_Or, in exchange, must all through the whole Laconian country_  
_Mourn for the loss of a king, descendant of great Heracle."_

Stefan stopped in his tracks. He had heard this before. Where?

"Thermopylae," Stefan said, parrot like, and turned. "That was the prophecy for The Battle Thermopylae."

"What, like the movie '300,'" Damon snorted. "Was this supposed to be some sort of grand coup? There is three of us and one of you. I think you're done."

The scent of jasmine swirled around him then and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Katherine turned and she was sobbing as she looked from Damon, to Stefan and Elena. Except her eyes…

"I'm so sorry," she croaked.

"Wrong again, lover," Elena said behind him.

Except it wasn't Elena at all…

Damon's eyes widened and he turned on his heels just as Katherine plunged a stake into Stefan's chest. Stefan's gaze was explosive. His eyes flickered from Damon, to Elena in the corner and to Katherine in front of him. His hand grabbed her shoulder as he pitched forward. Katherine moved aside, watching him fall at her feet. Stefan's mouth opened as if to speak.

"Close…"

His pallor turned a strange hue that was muddled in between brown and grey, the veins bulged from his neck. He twitched once and then he was still.

Damon fell to his knees with the weight of something so indescribably heavy. He let out a strange, sickened groan and he fell forward, his hand pressed into the earth. He half crawled to Stefan.

"One down," Katherine purred. "She and I? We are one. She is mine. Don't come after us or you'll follow your brother into the grave."

Damon turned towards Katherine and Elena. Elena was bawling, pulling in vain against Katherine.

"Damon…Stefan…She made me…please…Oh God, I'm sorry…please…"

Damon stood dumbly, unmoving, as they left the basement. Damon stared at the hole in the ceiling for a long moment as Elena's cries died away. He stared down at Stefan, his hand hovering over Stefan's cheek.

"You were so stupid," his voice was shaking.

He didn't realize he was crying until he saw his tears fall onto Stefan's face, reflecting in the light from the ceiling. He bent forward, one hand clutching Stefan's collar and rested his forehead against Stefan's forehead. His body shook, his mind flying.

_Stefan as a baby in the crib, his hand reaching for Damon…Stefan jumping over rocks beside the creek as they caught frogs…Stefan and Damon hunting quail with their dog Maximus…Stefan and Damon laughing and wrestling each other to the ground. Stefan. His brother. His blood. And now…_

Damon's fist clenched viciously around Stefan's collar and he lifted his head.

His eyes were murder. He looked down at his brother, eyes still open and vacant. As much as he hated Stefan, he had always been there. Damon moved his palm over Stefan's eyes, shutting them forever. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling where Katherine and Elena departed.

_Elena…_

He stood quickly and walked towards the opening. He moved to climb out and paused, turning back. Stefan's body laid motionless in the shadow.

"I'm sorry," Damon uttered, his voice echoing along the wall. He left, cutting through the forest.

They were gone.

What did Stefan mean? Close?

He only had one person to turn to.

* * *

Bonnie heard a knock at the door and walked from her room towards the door. She opened it casually and jumped slightly at the sight of Damon. She said nothing.

"I need your help. It's Elena."

Bonnie's face turned urgent and she searched Damon's eyes for a trace of deceit.

"Come in," she said softly, quickly.

And shut the door.


	21. Energy

**Present.**

The grimoire was massive. It was leather bound and the pages were yellowed with age. Bonnie hadn't touched it since Grams had passed away. Just thinking of it made her sick. She pulled it out of a dark sack and placed it on the coffee table. She paced around the room, biting her nail, while Damon sat on the sofa and retold to her what had happened.

"And you just let her go," Bonnie asked suddenly.

Damon paused and turned a hateful gaze on her.

"Are you serious," he deadpanned.

"Well, I mean, Im sorry. I just…I thought you hated him."

"I do," Damon said suddenly and then corrected himself. "I did."

He stared off vacantly, "It's just feels…different."

Bonnie paused, ervous, before opening the grimoire.

"I haven't…gone through a lot of it."

"Well I hope you're a fast reader."

Bonnie shot him a scathing look as she began to flip through the pages.

Damon's mind wandered to thoughts of Elena. Why did he want to protect her so badly? Why was he risking his life to save her? It confused him and angered him just the same. He pictured her face, so crestfallen, as she was pulled out of the basement by Katherine. He was jealous of his dead brother. He saw her pain. But he could not analyze its depth. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He knew there had been residual emotion between the two of them. In essence, his brother died for her. His last grand and heroic gesture. Damon's hand dug into the arm rest of the couch as she stared out the window.

Bonnie looked up from the grimoire.

"Um…"

Damon relaxed and turned to Bonnie.

"What," he snapped.

Bonnie furrowed her brow and looked back down at the book.

"Nothing," she muttered defensively.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"Answer me this," Bonnie said suddenly, looking up.

"How come Elena never asked me to make to enchant something for her so that she could walk in the daylight like you?"

"She didn't want me to after what happened with your," he paused, "and I wasn't that desperate to ask you."

"So…she was okay with never seeing the light of day?"

"I didn't say that."

"So what were you going to do?"

Damon's mind flickered to the ring that was around his brother's finger. On his rotting brother's hand. He had planned to take it by force when the time was right. He was going to pull it off his Stefan's finger and shove him into the sunlight. He had fantasized about it. And now…now it would be with Stefan forever—dangling against a skeletal finger, long after his flesh disappeared.

"Don't you have more pressing matters to attend to?"

Bonnie huffed as she went back to reading.

It was roughly 17 hours from Virginia to Louisiana but Katherine and Elena made it in less time. The windows were rolled and the top was pulled down in Katherine's 1961Ferrari 250 GT. It was sleek, black and expensive. She had easily "convinced" the owner to hand over the keys to the car. It was like taking candy from a baby. It amused her a great deal. Katherine turned and watched as Elena stared out of the window.

Elena's arm was propped on the side, her face leaning into her hand. Her hair whipped behind her in the breeze. She had cried for hours until Katherine slapped her into silence. Stefan's ring glinted in the sunlight as it lay at the crest of Elena's breasts. She wore it around her neck. Katherine almost had a twinge of guilt for killing Stefan. But it was for a greater good. In Katherine's mind, she herself came before all others. When Stefan began to crumple to the floor she had taken his hand in hers and slid the ring from his finger. She gave it to Elena with a lethal warning that if she thought it would be easier to escape, she was mistaken.

The humidity was palpable as they got closer to the Louisiana Coast. Elena could almost taste it. She blinked slowly, difficultly. Her mind was locked on Damon, on Stefan. The look of pain and shock on Stefan's face chilled her to the bone. Now she felt…disconnected. Almost as if it happened to someone else. And so she sat, zombie- like, and stared at the nothingness that whizzed by.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," Bonnie ran her hands through her hair.

Damon bent over her, looking at the grimoire. Bonnie shrank at his closeness.

"Oh please," Damon scoffed and moved around the living room. "Look…just…I don't understand how Katherine can compel Elena. She shouldn't be able to. The only thing I can think of is if she has some sort of spell—courtesy of your lovely great-whatever, Emily."

Bonnie shot Damon a look.

"Despite what you think, _if_ Emily did this then she was looking out for what was best."

"Right."

"If she gave Katherine that ability, she had a reason for doing it."

"Well I suggest you find out how to un-do it. Or figure out why she did."

The seduction of New Orleans came at nightfall.

The sounds of jazz music poured onto the French Quarter—sliding through Canal and onto Bourbon Street. The heady scent of man, swirled with spicy dark liquors, was intoxicating. Elena was suddenly on the alert with all the sights and smells.

"Tempting, isnt't it," Katherine purred.

Elena said nothing as she watched people as they roamed on the streets.

"Back when Absinthe was legal here—that was some real fun. Catching a lovely Creole woman with dusky skin and vibrant eyes while she's dancing with the green fairy? Blood mingling with absinthe…it was magical."

Elena closed her eyes.

_She saw a woman. She wore a white dress with delicate ruffles at the neckline. Her skin was a delicious coffee tone and her eyes were like almonds. She swayed as she spoke in French, obviously drunk. _

_"Shhh," Elena heard herself say._

_"Qu'est-ce que tu veux ?__"_

_"Voulez-vous venir avec moi, ma cherie." _

_And then the overwhelming sweet taste of blood…_

Elena opened her eyes. For a moment, it felt so real…she could nearly taste it. But just as suddenly, the feeling was gone and she was left with confusion and emptiness.

She wondered where Damon was. She wondered if he hated her. And she thought about Stefan and the look of betrayal on his face before he died.

"I keep coming back to this…"

Damon lifted his head.

"To what?"

Bonnie pointed at the book.

"This. It's a Separation Spell. It says here that you can separate part of your consciousness…the things you don't want with you. The spell doesn't destroy that part it just…takes it."

"I don't follow. What part that you don't want? Takes it where?"

Bonnie flipped back several pages.

"Well, if maybe you're a vampire—maybe your morality, your goodness. It's like…cosmic energy. And look here…on this spell, a Creation Spell. You can take the energy, assuming you know about it—you conjure it up- and create it into something tangible. Something you can touch. The spell here just took some energy from a rose bush and created a butterfly."

Damon looked down at the picture. It was a crude drawing of a butterfly beside a wilting rose bush.

"Why does the flower look like its dying?"

"Because it is."

"What are you saying?"

"Okay—imagine you are a flower. And some magic is used on you by a witch and a part of your soul is taken away. Harvested. Now, that energy can be stored away for hundreds of years. Not physically. You can't see the energy but its there. Now, another person, if they know about this, can conjure up your energy and with the right amount of the dark arts can create…life."

"So what in the fuck are you saying? That Elena is just a part of Katherine? That Elena doesn't exist? You're crazy, lady. This is fucking crazy."

"No! Look—all of this is in theory. If in theory Elena was created with the energy of Katherine's separated soul, she is still her own person. She lived, she breathed, she felt. Those were all her feelings, her experiences. Yes, her psyche might be a bit more frail than others, but she isn't some clone. It's just the energy that was used to create her. Do you understand?"

"No," Damon said, exasperated. "Look—I don't really care how you think Elena was created. I just need to fix this."

"Okay, this was just a long winded answer to get to the point I'm about to make. The reason Elena can be compelled by Katherine is because, in essence, they are the same person. Katherine isn't controlling Elena, she is controlling a part of herself."

"You just said they weren't the same person!"

"They aren't!"

Damon looked as if he was about to strangle her.

"They have the same cells. The same energy. But their minds are their own. I think. I don't know! Fuck, I'm just figuring this out as I go along."

"If what you say is true, then who used magic to make Elena's Mom pregnant with her, huh?"

Bonnie's eyes went downcast.

Damon moved closer to Bonnie. Uncomfortably close.

"You know something. What aren't you saying?"

Bonnie lifted her head defiantly.

"I don't know anything! Im trying to help you!"

Damon grabbed Bonnie by the throat, his fingers digging into her neck.

"I don't care if Elena loves you or not. I can kill you without a second thought."

"I don't know anything!"

Damon squeezed harder and Bonnie began to feel lightheaded.

"Okay," she rasped.

Damon let go.

"What? What did you say?"

"Okay," she repeated. "I know."

Damon was thunderstruck. He had been bluffing.

"What do you know?"

"I've known for years that Elena was part of Katherine…Grams…" Bonnie trailed off.

"You better fucking finish that sentence…"

"Grams was always after me to take care of Elena. To watch her. She did it," Bonnie's eyes flickered up to Damon's. "She had to. She was fulfilling a promise."

"A promise made by who?"

"Emily. Emily loved Katherine. She always loved Katherine. And she gave specific instructions to see that this was carried out. Grams didn't agree with it. Grams said that it felt like playing God. But she swore, as a Bennett, to uphold the vows of the coven. And when Mom was pregnant with me…well, Grams thought maybe this was the best chance that the baby would ever get. I could grow up with her. We could protect each other. Grams told me when I was 12. A part of me never believed her…"

"And why didn't you ever say anything?"

"How could I? 'Oh Elena, guess what?' I didn't know Katherine was back. I didn't know. Otherwise I would have tried to do something."

"You and yours have done more than enough," Damon spat. "So what now?"

"They've met. They are together. Katherine can't kill her with her own hands, if that's what you are worried about. But now that they've been brought together…its like two magnets trying to fuse back into one. One of them has to be weaker. And my guess is that it isn't Katherine. It won't kill her, but she will be weak."

"Do you think Katherine knows?"

"She might. To an extent. And that can be dangerous."

"How so?"

"One of them has to be destroyed."

"What? How?"

Bonnie shrugged.

"I don't know. All I know is Katherine can't do it. I don't even know why she would care to do it. She seems to has been fine just the way she is. I don't see what she would gain."


	22. 269

**Present.**

The mansion was hauntingly beautiful. Its French Colonial influence was obvious from the moment it came into view. Wide galleries wrapped around the first and second floors of the house. A large wide hipped roof extended over the porch. It was shaded under large cypress trees—tiny slivers of light peeked through the branches. Though at second glance, Elena noticed it was in a rather depleted condition. The shingles of the roof were worn and concave on the west side of the mansion. Blooming Blue Phylox were wrapped around the wrought iron balcony, claiming it back into the wilderness. The lawn was covered in colonies of Prunellas mingling with weeds. It was on the verge of spring and the flora and fauna were on the edge of explosion. Among the weeds, Elena could see a small pond near the porch. The water was dark and brackish and had obviously fallen by the wayside. Two Koi Fish, on the cusp of dead, swam sluggishly to and fro.

Katherine walked onto the porch and unlocked the large French door with an antique key. The door was of fine craftsmanship, fitted with small panes of glass.

"Who lives here," Elena asked softly.

Katherine turned suddenly, almost as if she forgot her presence.

"I do," she said quickly. "Get inside before I drag you in by your pretty hair."

Katherine flicked on a light in the foyer and motioned Elena into the living room.

A large hole in the roof let sunlight stream inside. Vines pulled in from the opening like an octopus looking for shelter. A Victorian couch, pattered in damask, was against the far wall. It was half draped in a large white sheet that pooled onto the floor. A grand chandelier lay on its side, quite damaged and covered with grime. Elena imagined it falling from the ceiling where the hole now was, to its resting place among the marbled floor. A grand piano stood on a slightly elevated area of the floor in the corner, its keys untouched for years.

Katherine took Elena's hand and took led her up a grand staircase, covered in a faded dark carpet, to the floor above.

They walked along the corridor, soft floorboards underfoot, until they got to a large door at the end of the hall. Katherine guided Elena inside, closing the door behind them both. It was immaculate. Katherine's bedroom seemed as if it belonged in a house of splendor, not in a depleted house in the Garden District. Her bed was draped in white satin sheets and decorative accent pillows. Her vanity was made of hand carved imported mahogany covered with her dishes of expensive crèmes and bottles of expensive perfumes.

"You'll have to play the part," Katherine said, drifting over her baby alpaca fur carpet to her closet.

"What do you mean?"

Katherine pulled a dress and pressed it towards Elena's body.

"He always wanted me demure and understated," she said almost bitterly. "He couldn't stand to have a man look at me. It drove him mad. Do you know how many nights I had to stay up and pacify his jealousy after he'd crushed me into a bloody mess? Do you? And the immeasurable number of darling garments he ruined…"

"I don't…" Elena drifted off.

"Of course, of course," Katherine said dismissively. "You don't know. That's all well and good. I remember he loved me in blue. He said it accented my dark heart."

Katherine paused and lifted the gown by its hanger. Its bodice was hand loomed strapless scalloped lace in a lovely shade of indigo and the skirt of the gown was silk—a dark shade of Persian blue with underlying layers of crinoline for volume.

"Now, let's get you out of those clothes…"

* * *

He had never felt stronger, more keenly in tune with himself. He stared at his hands. He had killed an immeasurable number of men…of women…of children with these hands. He was one of the Originals. He was one of the last few with his line of untainted existence. He was strong. He could think of a rare few that were stronger than he.

He drove in an unassuming car. His arm was thrown over the passenger's seat and gave a sidelong glance towards the person occupying it. It was a woman; her throat had been viciously ripped open, muscle and nerves exposed. Her eyes, vacant, stared straight ahead into the nothingness. Her blood had been warm, nurturing. He ran his fingers lovingly through her golden strands of hair. So lovely. He pulled over to the side of the road then and shoved her carelessly, as if she were a sack of garbage, out of the car and continued on his way.

He could sense her. Her blood was calling to him. Her soul was in tatters—he could feel it. And she was afraid. And it was an intoxicating feeling to have that power once again. Katherine had to have known that she couldn't hide forever. As he had told her many, many years ago—he would find a way.

Klaus found himself smiling as he passed the Louisiana state line.

* * *

Damon stirred.

_He dreamt he was laying on a black chaise lounge, his head cradled against the arm rest. His eyes were closed but he could smell her. Elena was kneeling beside the arm rest, her mouth hovering over his ear. Her arm reached over his shoulders and her hand glided across his stomach. His abs twitched as her fingers danced, as soft as feathers, back up towards his neck. She wore a white laced bra and matching panties. She was standing now and leaning over him, her hips pressed into his shoulder as she kissed his stomach. And at his feet, there was Katherine in a red laced bra and matching panties. Her tongue was swirling on his toes before traveling up his legs with her mouth. She ascended, Elena's mouth descended lower. Damon had one arm up over Elena, his hand curled in her hair while the other tangled in Katherine's hair. Two wet and eager tongues were discovering ever part of Damon._

_Elena. Katherine. Elena. Katherine._

_They came together in the middle. Elena and Katherine's mouths met as their tongues flicked over Damon's hardness. Each one kissing, licking, tasting, teasing. Elena moved fluidly to Katherine. They had both crawled onto him, their hands gliding over him…up and down. They leaned down, Katherine kissing one ear while Elena ran her tongue over the other. _

_"Don't you love me," one whispered._

_"Please…" Damon begged._

_Damon closed his eyes as one of them eased onto him, the pleasurable tightness was almost too much to bear. Damon opened his eyes and there was only one. Blood began to drip from her mouth._

_"Who am I?" She whispered._

Damon woke with a start.

Bonnie turned her attention from driving and looked to Damon.

"We're here," she said. Her locater spell had worked.

Welcome to New Orleans.

* * *

"It fits like a dream," Elena found herself saying.

She stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself.

"Of course it does," Katherine said smugly. "I had it made especially for me at a lovely shop on the Rue de la Paix. So of course it fits like a glove for _you_."

The curves of Elena's breasts were visible through the clinging lace with her most modest areas just barely covered, and the skirt created lovely volume over her hips. Her legs, smooth and bare, seemingly went on forever. And in a nearby box were an exceedingly expensive pair of Nicholas Kirkwood heels. She felt weak, though, and swayed on her feet. She was quite tired and hadn't remembered the last time she had slept.

Katherine came up behind her, kissing her neck.

"Oh, love," she breathed. "I'll miss you when you're gone."

Elena looked at Katherine in the mirror.

"What do you mean?"

"All will be told in time."

Elena looked towards the door. If only she could make it out the door, she was sure she could muster energy to escape. She could hide and contact Damon. Damon. Her heart lurched. Even his cold demeanor seemed like heaven now. She missed his touch, his lingering kisses and the fire in his eyes.

"Don't you even think of it, you treacherous bitch."

Elena looked in the mirror and at Katherine.

"I'm not doing anything."

"No. But you're thinking it. If I know myself as well as I do, then I know you. And if you even so much as step towards that door, I will bring the most unimaginable hell on your shoulders. Besides," her tone suddenly changed, "as much as you want to leave, I know you want to stay."

Elena blinked and shook her head.

"You're crazy."

Katherine laughed.

"Love, I've been crazy for centuries. Even so, you know I'm right. You feel things with me. I know you do. And it frightens you. Your body calls to mine. As much as you want to leave, if you do, you'd be leaving a part of yourself. And it would hurt you in ways you've never experienced."

Elena said nothing but her eyes betrayed her. She had felt it. It was organic, foreign. She hated Katherine with every fiber, every cell in her body. She wanted her dead. But there was something magnetic about Katherine that she was drawn to. She loathed herself for even thinking it.

"Exactly," Katherine's tone was mocking.

She leaned her face into Elena's neck, her chest pressed against her back. One arm curled up and gripped Elena's chin, pushing her face towards the left, exposing more of the smooth skin of her neck. Katherine sunk her teeth into her, breaking her skin, savoring her taste. Her other hand drifted over lace, over Elena's breasts. Elena shut her eyes in disgust as she felt her body responding to Katherine's touch. Katherine's fingers felt Elena nipples harden and she smiled as she drank her blood. Her hands moved lower, the crinoline whispered as Katherine pulled her dress up as her other hand slid over Elena's lace panties. Her fingers pushed them aside and she found her just as she thought she would. They sunk to the floor together. Katherine climbed on top of Elena, kissing her over the lace and up towards her neck again. Elena turned her face away in a feeble attempt of resistance. This wasn't right. This was wrong. But it felt so…

Katherine yanked Elena by her chin to face her. Her eyes were alive. Her tongue, covered with blood, darted out and slid over Elena's lower lip. Elena clenched her jaw just as Katherine's fingers began to slide downward again. And as her fingers slid inside her, all of Elena's resolution came to pieces. She crushed her mouth to Katherine, tasting herself on her tongue. It was feral, brutal. Their teeth gnashed against each other, cutting the others lips. Katherine's fingers slid in and out while her thumb massaged her. She felt her legs start to tremble and she couldn't stop it.

"Don't I know what makes us feel good?"

Elena moaned, arching into her hand. Everything and nothing was flying through her mind. She felt like an animal. She tore at Katherine's blouse, exposing her breasts and slid her hand over them with fascination. Their faces were covered with blood. Katherine moved her fingers faster and whispered sordid commands into her ear. And when Katherine bit down excruciatingly hard onto her lip, Elena came in an explosive wave that left her shocked. Disgusted. Sated. Elena shut her eyes tightly, her mouth throbbing, as Katherine licked the blood clean from her face. Katherine's hands were in her hair now and she found herself kissing her. There was that pull again…

This kiss was different, the tone had suddenly changed and Elena was unsure of why. Katherine's kisses were deeper, desperate and she felt her as she shivered suddenly. As she kissed her back, her ears were suddenly on the alert. There was a tinkering sound coming from the floor below. Katherine was shaking even more now as the kiss became more intense. Elena tore her mouth away from Katherine.

"Do you hear that?"

"No," Katherine said quickly, pressing her mouth back into Elena's.

It was music. The piano. Katherine clung to Elena for a hard moment, kissing her with everything she had as her whole body shook.

Elena sat up.

"It's music. Someone is here," Elena said, turning to Katherine.

Katherine stood suddenly and walked into the corner, her forehead leaning against the wall for a quick moment before she began to pace.

"I don't hear anything," she said weakly.

Elena stood. All the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. That melody…how did she know it?

Katherine was sitting on her bed now, her knees drawn up and she rocked herself slowly and then faster. She suddenly covered her hands with her ears and shut her eyes.

"Make it stop," she whispered.

"I know that song," Elena said softly, her features contorted in confusion.

Katherine dropped her hands from her ears. Her face became a blank canvas.

"I don't hear anything. I don't hear anything," Katherine repeated quietly.

Elena looked at Katherine and moved towards the door. Katherine made no attempt to stop her. Instead she looked up slowly and stopped rocking. Her eyes stared intently into Elena's.

"Go check," she said softly.

She was giving her permission to leave. She could leave! But the music…

Something was wrong. Someone was down there. Elena felt herself shaking.

Katherine watched as Elena put her hand on the knob. She paused and pulled her hand back.

"I'm scared," she said suddenly.

"You should be," Katherine said, empty of emotion.

Elena put her hand back on the knob and turned it, opening the door. The music was louder now. She paused and turned back to look at Katherine who was still sitting on the bed. She couldn't read her expression. She almost said goodbye but then she realized how ridiculous that was. She walked into the hall and closed the door behind her. With each step, the music grew louder and the melody grew more haunting. Her feet were bare against the steps and she suddenly felt so cold. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed there was a flickering glow in the living room. Candles. There were candles everywhere. And then she saw him. He was wearing a dark suit against his pale complexion. The candles cast a glow on his skin, giving it a warm tone. He did not look up. His hair was short and his mustache and beard were freshly trimmed. Elena walked into the living room, her eyes on him as he was hunched over the piano. She was drawn to him but at the same time, she felt fear coursing through her veins. She stopped by the fallen chandelier, watching. His song ended, the sound of the keys still echoing. He lifted his head mildly, his eyes a startlingly blue.

Elena felt as if she had been hit with by a train. His eyes…

"Klaus," she heard herself say.

_"Close," Stefan had muttered before he had fallen to the ground._

Elena's heart lurched suddenly in her chest. Not close. That wasn't what he warned. It was Klaus. _Klaus_.

Before Elena could even blink, the man had her pinned to the wall and his face contorted.

"Katherine," he said sweetly, "Ive been waiting for this for 269 years."


	23. Au revior

**Present.**

Elena shook her head.

"Oh no, you're mistaken. I'm not Katherine…"

Klaus silenced her almost instantly. His hand was massive and it curled easily around her neck. He did it in one slow and fluid motion, pressing Elena back into the wall.

"Oh, you wish it were that easy," He purred.

Elena's hands flew up to his hand, attempting to pry off his vice grip. His hand anchored her to the wall like an ornament. Her feet were no longer touching the floor and she found that she could barely scrape the marble with the tip of her big toe. She was frantic. He, on the other hand, seemed unnaturally calm.

"And what name have you adopted now? Jezebel? It would suit you seeing as how you were a disloyal, selfish little harlot."

"No…" Elena tried to gasp, though it came out as less than a whisper. Her eyes were wide, and bulging from their sockets.

Klaus's other hand fell across her face. A painful explosion of light filled her eyes for a bright second. And to her horror, his hand descended again and again. The pain was outstanding and her ears rung like a bell. Elena struggled wildly but she was no match for him. In fact, she was barely able to struggle at all. The scent of blood filled her nostrils. Her blood.

Klaus screamed with pleasure as her eyes began to roll back into her head and she fell limp.

_'Damon…' _She thought frantically. She looked around the sparse living room. There was nothing and no one to save her. And she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Damon carried his overnight bag over his shoulder and opened the door to his room at the Crowne Plaza Hotel. He tossed the bag onto the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. Bonnie was down the hall getting her luggage situated before they began combing the town looking for Elena and Katherine.

_Damon._

Damon opened his eyes and sat very still for a moment, his head still bent. It was almost as if he were simultaneously listening and feeling. He then lifted his head swiftly.

_Damon._

His mind was filled with images too quick to grasp. And a moan escaped his lips.

"Elena!"

He ran.

* * *

It was raining, she could feel the warm droplets falling onto her closed eyelids. Elena groaned lightly and tried to move. Except she could not move. It was she became aware of the weight on top of her. Her eyes opened slowly, painfully. And it was with a tired horror that she realized it was not rain, but blood. Blood was dripping slowly off of the fangs of Klaus's drenched mouth. His eyes were a blazing blue. So blue. In any other setting, he would be seen as beautiful. His hand was in her hair, almost tenderly.

"You were always the most beautiful, my Princess, when in pain," he said breathtakingly.

Elena moved her face slightly, the blood now dripping into her mouth.

Klaus licked his lips and leaned his head forward, immersing himself in her scent as he kissed her jaw.

There was a familiarity about him that was disconcerting for her. As if she knew him, but she didn't. She'd never met this man before in all of her life. But she had said his name. Klaus. An image of him flashed in her mind: they were driving in a carriage and he was playfully tickling her nose w/ a feather. The image quickly faded. He had called her Katherine. Katherine! Elena wondered if she was long gone by now. It was obvious that this man was why she was acting so strange. Elena felt as if she had been on the floor for hours. How long had she been here with Klaus?

_"You're my failsafe…"_

Katherine's words came back to Elena in a rush. Failsafe. She hadn't understood what she meant. Nor did Katherine clarify. And yet here she was, on the floor with this man. And in the corner of her mind…

_"You're here because I made you…"_

Everything Katherine had said was deliberate, if ambiguous. But the pieces began to form in her mind. This had been her trap. She had been a diversion—a trick so Katherine could escape and this man, this vampire, would think he had found her. It was plain as day.

"You're even more captivating than I remember," he whispered into her skin.

Elena's attention was averted back to Klaus, who sunk his teeth into Elena's neck, piercing her flesh. She could feel the blood literally draining out of her. Elena was too weak to protest, too weak to lift her arms. All she could do was moan. Could a vampire die this way? To die from blood loss—blood that provided no sustenance to an un-beating heart? She didn't understand the lore of a vampire, much less the anatomy. Klaus's voice was hollow…far away…

"Didn't I protect you? Care for you? Why did you do it? I made you, Katherine. I plucked you from your deathbed. I made you a vampire. I gave you power that you never knew existed. And that was how you showed your gratitude? And how many have fallen under your spell since then? Hmm?"

Klaus was gripping her shoulders, shaking her. Elena's head banged into the marble.

Klaus leaned back, drinking in her attire. Lace moist with blood. Satin against creamy skin.

"You're dressed like a whore," he said quietly. "You knew I'd find you and still…and in blue, no less. Is this your burial gown, my sweet?"

His hands slid over the Elena.

"I can't express how much I loathe you. I loathe you so much that I love you, you bitch. You've ruined me. You've poisoned my mind for years and took whatever bit of sanity I had left with you," his tone suddenly venomous.

Klaus grabbed a fist full of lace and pulled, ripping it apart like paper. His teeth sunk into her collarbone and tore through her flesh like butter all the way to her breast. He took no heed of her pain or of her weakness. It was thrilling. To hurt her was his God given right. From the moment she drank his blood, he owned her. Even now, she was his. Just thinking about the men who'd stepped in his shoes in his absence made him rage. Klaus had never understood the word 'no.' Everything and anything he ever wanted was his for the taking. He was an old one. And even vampires had to respect hierarchy.

Elena blinked with heavy eyes, her body being jerked as her clothes were coming apart in tatters. Her head bobbed like a ragdoll and fell back on its side, facing the foyer with her hair splayed out like a fan. She hazily watched the shadow of the Cyprus tree as it danced beyond the windows. The curtains were bathed red as sunset occurred beyond polyester. She imagined the French Quarter—of an old man sitting on a stool as he strummed his guitar…of children playing tag as they ran along the sidewalk. Her eyes smiled, far away. She imagined the bayou, a small boy fishing on his family's dock. So far away.

Klaus's growl was primal, guttural. He ripped off the remnants of the skirt and tossed it behind him. Defile her. Kill her. This was his vengeance, his right. He wanted to damage her mind, crush her spirit. And then when she had nothing left, he wanted her extinguished from existence. He loved her…hated her so much. He wanted to rip her apart and bathe in her blood. He wanted to pluck out her beautiful eyes and crush them in his fist. He wanted to cut off her head and hang it above his mantle. He wanted to fuck her and sink a stake into her heart as he climaxed. He was mad with rage and beyond sanity. He unbuttoned his trousers, as he whispered hatred into Elena's ear. Elena had never heard a vampire sound so wild, so gone.

And soon she felt gone. She couldn't feel anything anymore, her mind flying far and away. Her balled fist un-flexed and laid calmly as Klaus pushed them outward. He bent her head back, arched, his mouth clasping to her unresponsive lips. He pushed her face away again, almost as if he didn't want to look at her. His hands dug into her flesh, kneading her skin like dough. Elena blinked, unresponsive to stimuli.

She went to another place with no ugliness. No death. No pain. She was in a beautiful forest. The sun was streaming through the trees and she was at peace. And then she saw herself, bathed in a rich light, determination on her face, poised like a snake ready to strike. She heard voices. Words that she was too weak to process. Then she suddenly felt a sudden surge that course through her veins, through her heart. And suddenly she was lying in a field and Damon was washing her hair…washing her hair with flowers. And he kept saying her name, over and over and over…

"Elena? Elena? Elena…hey…?"

A hand was softly patting her face.

"Elena…Baby, wake up" The voice became more hysterical. "Elena?"

Elena felt her body being shook frantically.

"Open your eyes goddamnit. Fucking Christ. Please…Elena…!"

With great effort, Elena's eyes opened into slits.

Damon was staring down at her, pushing her hair out of her face, his hands shaking madly.

"God," he moaned, resting his head against hers, his body visibly relaxing.

Her smile was so pitiful, so small.

"You," she sighed.

Damon rocked her back and forth.

"Shhh, shhh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. It's okay. Shhh."

He stood, lifting her easily in his arms. Gravity turned Elena's face outward on its side. And it was then that she realized that she wasn't dreaming. There on the floor—amidst blood, lace and satin was Klaus and beside him was Katherine. Her eyes were milky, vacant. The veins on her neck were dark and bulging. She was dead. Klaus's body was turned away and partly covered with Katherine's crumpled body, though obviously dead.

Elena slowly stretched out her arm, her fingers extending towards Katherine. Damon pulled Elena's arm back over her chest and covered her with a blanket.

"Don't look at them," he said and covered her eyes with his hand. "Don't. You're safe now."

Damon stared down, a pathetic heap at his feet. Rage was still fresh. Disgust was still fresh. His adrenaline was still pumping. That man…he wanted to rip him to pieces. And Katherine…

The sound of footsteps rushed up the walkway and burst into the house. Damon turned swiftly, his fangs bared and he growled.

Bonnie stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in fear. She looked from Damon, to the bodies on the floor and finally to Elena.

"Elena, my God…!"

Bonnie moved towards them and Damon turned Elena's body in his arms, away from Bonnie.

"Don't you fucking come a step closer," Damon said quietly.

Bonnie looked at Damon.

"Damon, I—"

"You've done more than enough. This—" he gestured around him, "This is on your conscience."

He looked down at Elena, his features softening.

"Lets get you home," he said softly, walking out of the mansion and into the darkness of the night.


	24. Helpless

**Present.**

When he came into the room, she was sitting on the window sill. Her head was bent back against the frame, her eyes staring out over the woods. She absently toyed with Stefan's ring at her neck. She sensed him long before he had come upstairs. She was slow to heal and only had human blood in her system for a few hours. She had been incapable of keeping it down before. Her lips were swollen, an open cut was prominent in the corner of her mouth where Klaus's fangs had been. The side of her face was bruised and his bite marks that looked more like stab wounds, although smaller, were still noticeable. She was dressed in a white, long sleeved night gown that reached passed her feet. Her knees were drawn to her chest but she was otherwise still.

Damon watched her, saying nothing. He moved into the room and sat in a chair that was far away from Elena. He wanted her to feel safe. She made no attempt to beckon him closer and only blinked every now and again. One leg slid off of the sill, her foot moved lazily across the floor, before resting the dorsal side on the ground.

"It's different," she said finally, breaking the silence.

Damon said nothing, watching her.

"I feel…different."

She turned to Damon, meeting his eyes while hers held no emotion. She seemed empty, as if there was nothing behind her gaze.

"I remember things. But I don't know what I'm remember because they aren't my memories. I feel like they're _hers_. Her memories. I feel like I fucking consumed her when she died."

She turned back and looked outside as a fog began to roll in. She brought her fingers to her mouth, nibbling on them absently.

"It's like remembering a dream," she continued. "Its pieces. Fragments. But there are more and more pieces that are starting to fit. And I don't know what in the hell I'm supposed to do with it."

"You don't have to do anything with it," Damon said calmly.

Elena turned back to him.

"Don't I?"

"Don't you what? You don't owe anything to her, Elena. She kidnapped you. She hurt you. She threw you in the lion's pit. What could you possibly think that you need to do? She's dead."

Elena stared at Damon for a long moment.

"You have no idea what happened in New Orleans, do you?"

Damon shifted, uncomfortable. He looked away, out of the window, for a moment.

"I have an idea," he said quietly.

"Did you know that man," she asked suddenly.

Damon's heart reeled at the mention of _him_. He wasn't sure of everything, but he saw that man covered in blood. And he knew that it was Elena's blood that painted his mouth. He saw how Elena looked when he found her. He had a fairly positive idea. He hadn't even noticed him lying there until after…

"No. All I knew was that if he was alive I would-"

"He would have killed you."

"I don't care."

"He was my maker."

"No, Elena. I am. I made you."

Elena sighed, "Her maker. He sired her. She was dying in bed and he made her a vampire... he told me. Do you remember what Stefan said before he died?"

Damon stared at her.

"Yes. He said…he said 'Close.'"

"Klaus," Elena said slowly. "He said Klaus. It was a warning. Klaus was free. And he was coming for me…for her. For us."

Elena pressed her hand to the window pane, the glass cool underneath her palm.

"And he did," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Why else would someone track her down centuries later? The same reason you did, Damon. Love. Revenge. Obsession."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Katherine was impetuous. Selfish. She betrayed him somehow. He called me…he called her disloyal. I don't have all the pieces but I have a lot of them. I can only imagine how someone would act, having that kind of anger inside them for hundreds of years."

"What are you saying? Don't fucking justify what that animal…" Damon trailed off.

"I'm not justifying anything. What I'm saying is that Katherine knew. She knew how it would end. That one day, he would get out. And when he did…"

She punched through the glass so suddenly, that Elena even surprised herself. She reared her hand back, blood pouring down her wrist.

Damon stood suddenly and Elena reached out her other hand in protest.

"Don't. I can't. Not yet." She looked back at her hand and she shut her eyes tightly.

Damon paced, running his hands through his hair. And suddenly, he moved in a flash and was at Elena's feet. She cried out as he took her clean hand and her bleeding hand in his. His grip was firm.

"I know, I know," he said quickly. "And I'm sorry. But feel me. Feel this."

Elena's hands shook violently and Damon increased his grip, stilling her.

"Feel this," he said softer. "You can't imagine what was going through my mind when I saw you. You have not even a modicum of an idea. Never in my life…never in my afterlife did I feel such absolute…"

His voice broke off but held his gaze intently towards Elena. Her eyes, that had earlier been shrouded with vacancy, were alive. He kissed her hands suddenly. Fiercely.

"I don't know what you did to me. But I've realized that I don't want you gone…" Damon trailed off.

He stared at her intensely, not sure if he was waiting for a reaction or not. And then suddenly he felt silly. Silly that he was kneeling at her feet like a fool. He shrugged and cleared his throat.

"Just…you can stay. Here. You can stay here as long as you want. I can protect you. That's all I wanted to say."

He stood quickly and left the room.

Elena stared down at her hands, no longer shaking. She turned back towards the door, wanting to run to him.

Instead she placed her head in her hands and for the first time since that night in New Orleans, she cried.

* * *

He left bags of blood at her door. It was a month later, and he had seen her only once after that night. He could hear her moving around in there. And sometimes he heard her crying. But she kept her door locked. And she'd fall silent when he called out to her. He'd find empty bags outside her room, but he never caught sight of her. And so he kept his distance. And honestly, maybe it was for the best.

He had nightmares of that night over and over again. And it angered him and frightened him how much he fucking cared. It started out as a game. She was a pawn. A toy. And here he was leaving blood bags at her door…! What had he become?

And then one morning, he smelled her. He smelled her burning. Maybe that was why he woke up. He was out of bed like lightning and ran out of the house, screaming her name. It was morning and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. He found her at the edge of a cliff, watching the sunrise. Stefan's ring was on loosely on her finger and she alternated from pulling it off and putting it back on. When he caught sight of her, she was a spectacular sight of fire and then suddenly it was extinguished. And then again. Her cries of pain were delicate, almost silent. Her clothes were charred and fused to her skin. Damon gathered her into his arms. Her eyes were dead. She looked dead. Her hair, what was left, was a long and tangled mess and she looked gaunt. Damon fisted her hand in his, keeping Stefan's ring in place while he rushed her back into the Boarding House. He brought her inside and laid her on a chaise lounge in the living room.

"Honey, what were you thinking," he breathed.

"Damon," she said softly, her skin repairing underneath his gaze.

Damon smoothed her hair desperately as it grew back and became un-singed.

"Elena, don't scare me like that."

"I just wanted to burn, even for just a little bit. I just wanted to burn. I just want to burn him off of me."

"Elena…"

"Stop calling me that!"

Elena had pushed him away then and ran back into the room. And Damon punched the walls, helpless.

He didn't know what to do.

* * *

She started down at him as he slept. She'd watched him sleep for so many nights. She watched his eyes stir under his lids many times before and wondered what he dreamt. Did he dream of her? Of Katherine?

She reached with her fingers, gilding them softly over his jaw.

Damon's hand shot out, grabbing Elena's wrist. Elena tensed immediately, gasping. Damon relaxed his grip and sat up in bed, watching Elena as she visibly relaxed. His back leaned against the headboard, his thin blanket covering his waist. He said nothing.

"Emily lied," Elena whispered finally. "She said that I wouldn't have a soul…but I did," she paused. "Why would she do that?"

Damon watched Elena intently.

"Because she was a Bennett, Elena. What other reason do you need? She wanted to help Katherine but she also didn't want that kind of creation of her conscience. She was giving you a chance...it was the best she could do for you."

"I should have never been born."

"Don't say that."

"I was made for Katherine, I understand that now. But somehow I'm the one left standing. I feel so…whole in a way I've never felt before. Almost like I'm looking at things with new eyes. I took it back, you know?"

"Took what back?"

"Whatever she had left. When she died…it flew inside of me. I felt it. And I feel like there are two parts of me fighting the other."

Damon wanted to touch her, to hold her, but he held back.

"Do you remember when I told you that I felt like I had her memories," she asked.

"Yes."

"I know now that that is what this is. How am I supposed to do this? I have my memories, but hers linger in the shadows. What in the hell am I supposed to do with that? I don't even know what the fuck I am now. Who I am now."

"You're Elena Gilbert. You always have been. Katherine is another life. Another person. Don't let her influence your future. Don't give her that power."

"Do you want to know her last memory?"

Damon said nothing, not even truly sure if he wanted to know anything at all. Katherine was like another life for him as well. And revisiting her was painful and troublesome.

Regardless, Elena continued.

_Katherine sat stoically on her bed. She winced when she heard her scream. It was a strange thing to hear your voice, to hear your cries. Except that is wasn't you at all. She jumped again, listening to Klaus's booming voice. It was silk. It was sandpaper. She stood suddenly and turned towards the window. His appetite would finally be appeased. Elena had done as she had been created to do. Protect her. She was free. She smiled, unsure of herself for a moment. And then she nodded to herself. This was right. She quickly gathered her belongings and walked towards the window._

_Just then, her mouth opened and she could taste blood on the breeze. Her blood. Elena's blood. She paused. She felt a sudden pain at the side of her face. It was minute, but it was there. She ran her hand over her face, the pain now gone._

_"Fuck," she whispered as she walked away from the window. She squeezed her eyes tightly as she opened the door._

_"You were always the most beautiful, my Princess, when in pain," she heard him say._

_Katherine clasped her hand over her mouth in fear as she descended the stairs. She had to keep herself from screaming in sheer terror. His voice was one of the most frightening sounds she'd ever heard. For Christ's sake, this was madness. No. She had doubts but she couldn't risk her life for Elena's. Her life was too precious to jeopardize for anyone. She started to retreat back up the stairs. She could have no second thoughts. Elena's moan echoed along the walls and Katherine froze. The sound was truly awful, an animal on the verge of death._

_"Didn't I protect you? Care for you? Why did you do it? I made you, Katherine. I plucked you from your deathbed. I made you a vampire. I gave you power that you never knew existed. And that was how you showed your gratitude? And how many have fallen under your spell since then? Hmm?"_

_Katherine was shaking her anger, her hands balled into fists. Gratitude? _

_'You filthy fucking animal, I slaved over you,' she cried inside._

_Run. Run. Run. She backed away again, moving up the stairs and silently apologizing to Elena. She wasn't quite sure why she was so unhinged. This was what she wanted. What she'd been waiting for. Elena was a hollow shell. A vessel created to protect her. It was her destiny. _

_She walked up the stairs, shaking her head._

_"You're dressed like a whore," he paused. "You knew I'd find you and still…and in blue, no less. Is this your burial gown, my sweet?"_

_"I can't express how much I loathe you. I loathe you so much that I love you, you bitch. You've ruined me. You've poisoned my mind for years and took whatever bit of sanity I had left with you."_

_'Have her, you animal,' she thought._

_And then she heard his growl. Primitive. Dangerous. Familiar. She stopped dead in her tracks, her hands at her sides. She looked over her shoulder, the glow of candles creating figures on the wall. She could see his shadow moving. She heard the cry of satin and lace being ripped apart. She was suddenly standing in the foyer and couldn't recall climbing down the steps. In her hand was a fallen piece of the wooden balustrade she'd picked up. And there he was. Her fear personified. And he was over Elena like demon. His hands…his body…her body. Katherine's eyes dilated like a cat as she crossed the windows in the foyer. Rage. Anger. Disgust. She could see sweat glittering on his body as he moved over Elena. And Elena was staring at her with the strangest vacant smile on her face. Seeing her and alternately not seeing her._

_"Niklaus," she whispered softly, like a snake._

_Klaus whipped his face to Katherine. His gaze was murder, lust. She watched his eyes contract in their sockets and he turned back to Elena in confusion. And as he turned back to Katherine, she was already at him, plunging the stake past his broad chest, passed his ribs and into his heart. Dark blood sprayed onto her face and down his chest. Klaus's arm shot out and grabbed her throat angrily._

_Katherine grabbed his chin, licking his blood of her lips, tasting him for the first time in centuries. Tasting him for the last time_

_"Look at me. Look at me," she said desperately. "Look at me, Niklaus." _

_She was crying as she kissed him roughly, feeling his mouth dry. She watched his skin turn a sickly pallor. His veins grew dark and began to create webs along his skin. And his eyes…oh his eyes! The shock! The hurt!_

_"Katerina," he rasped as his grip loosened, still not quite understanding._

_And in his last moment, he knew he had been tricked with black magic, and then death took its unrelenting grip. He slid to the floor and Katherine pushed him away from her feet, sending his body crashing head first into the ground. She stood above him, above Elena. Klaus was dead. Dead. It was unfathomable to her. She was free. It took a long moment for it to sink in. She wanted to scream with joy. She wanted to go on joyous feeding frenzy on Bourbon Street. Free! The word took on a new meaning. She lifted her stake like a magical trident in victory. She paused, though, staring downward._

_Elena's face looked like tenderized meat and her body…_

_Katherine looked back at Klaus and then to Elena._

_"Elena," she called softly._

_The pain was so sudden that Katherine barely had time to react. She looked down slowly, feeling her body tensing. Her fingers moved up slowly, touching the tip of the stake that was now jutting out of her chest. She felt someone grab her neck, holding her upright. She blinked as Damon came into her line of vision._

_"I always hoped it'd be you," she smiled as Damon watched her. As his face began to blur and disintegrate she felt his hand clutch hers and she squeezed…_

* * *

Damon's head was down, his expression tucked in his chin.

He stood out of bed, keeping his face away from Elena, running his hand over his face.

And without a word, he left Elena alone in his room and did not return.

Elena rocked herself in his bed. She looked absently into the darkness.

"Are you happy now," she asked aloud.

"He had to know," she answered herself, her voice slightly deeper.

She laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

(A/N: On a silly note, I have to say, that I had this chapter written before last nights ep. Us (me/the show) both calling Katherine "Katerina" is purely a coincidence. Doncha hate it when that happens? ;p)


	25. Roses

Present.

He kept his distance. He knew he was being cold to Elena, but he did nothing to stop it. He wasn't cruel or rude but simply aloof.

Elena was quite aware of it. In fact, she would have preferred his cruelness or his biting wit to this. At least then, she knew he had passion. But this…? It was strange. But even she wasn't herself. Some moments she felt okay and other moments, she felt out of control. She was still trying to adjust to everything. Her mind was a tornado. She realized that lately she was having conversations with herself.

Damon jumped down into the rotting basement of the old Salvatore Estate. It was morning and the sound of a chirping sparrow was heard in the distance. Damon watched as particles of dust and pollen floated through the streams of light—light that fell on the corpse of what was once his brother. Decay was apparent. Stefan's skin was sunken in, his skull jutting out against it. The stake was buried, still, prominently in his concaved chest. Damon walked slowly closer. It felt quite surreal. Almost as if he was not even there. Almost as if this wasn't his brother. He wasn't sure that he felt anything at all. He crouched down, his eyes drinking what was left of his brother's body. A small fly landed on Stefan's forehead, rubbing its feelers together. Damon swatted it away suddenly, disgusted. He stood quickly, he felt ill.

He covered his face with his hand and tried to clear his mind. His fingers slid down his face before his arm relaxed at his side. His eyes were still closed.

"What are you doing here," he asked lightly.

He turned and looked at Elena who was standing under a thick stream of sunlight. Her hand was clutched around the ring that dangled on her neck and her eyes were fixated on Stefan. She took a step forward and stopped dead in her tracks.

"It's my fault," she whispered.

Damon said nothing to discredit her admission.

"You really shouldn't be here," he said finally.

"I followed you," she said softly.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

"Damon, I'm sorry…"

"Stop."

"What?"

"I don't have the energy for melodramatics or remorse right now," he sighed. "You should go. I'm going to bury him and I don't want you standing around while I drag his body to a hole in the ground." He turned back towards Stefan.

"I had to kill him," she whispered.

Damon froze, his eyes staring vacantly in the distance but his ears were alert. He turned back to Elena.

"What did you say," he asked.

Elena lifted her head, her eyes were suddenly different.

"Kill or be killed. I had to do it."

Damon rushed to Elena and gripped her shoulders, shaking her violently.

"Stop it. Snap out of it. You're not Katherine. You're Elena."

Elena's head bent forward, her hair over her face. She laughed cruelly.

"You can't get rid of me that easy, Mr. Salvatore," she purred. "Not even a stake to the heart can keep me down."

"Katherine," panic crept into his voice.

He shook Elena again, shouting.

"Stop it, goddamnit. Elena…!"

Elena's legs crumpled underneath her and she slid to the floor in Damon's arms. Damon pushed her hair from her face. Her eyes were rolling back into her head as her body began to spasm—her back arched and joints stiff. Damon clutched her to his chest.

"Shhh, shhh. It's okay. I'm here. Elena, I'm here. Come back. Push it away. Push it all away," he whispered into her ear.

Elena's fingers were outstretched and pale. She shook violently before her entire body fell limp. Damon continued to rock her, whispering to her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Damon felt her turn her face into his neck as he was bent over her. He lifted his head and saw her tired eyes staring up at him.

"Elena," he said delicately.

"You," she said softly, her eyes smiled tiredly.

Damon nodded.

"Me," he assured her, kissing her forehead. "It's me."

"What happened," she rasped.

Damon thought of her admission, her cold laughter…

"You fainted, sweetheart," he said finally.

"Oh…!"

She struggled to sit up but fell back against Damon's chest, exhausted. He felt her body tense and followed her gaze to Stefan's body just a few feet away.

"Oh," she whispered again. "I…"

"Shh," Damon petted her hair. "Let's get you back in the house. You need to rest."

"I'm so sorry," she shut her eyes as Damon lifted her in his arms.

"Don't think about that right now."

"I'm sorry," she repeated over and over.

He wondered who she was speaking to—him or Stefan.

* * *

Damon listened to Mamie Smith sing the blues as the record player spun vinyl underneath its needle. He was drinking a mint julep, his finger swinging lazily to and fro. He watched Elena through the window, his eyes keen but his body relaxed. He crushed the mint leaves in between his teeth…

She wore a pale pink bohemian dress with long, loose sleeves and a lace back. A straw gardening hat sat atop her head with a pink sash around the brim as she was bent over a rose bush. With clippers in hand, she snipped the beautiful red bloom and placed it in a basket that was slung over her other arm. She leaned over a small rose bud and took in its sweet scent, smiling to herself. The breeze was cool and her voice, very low, was whispering into the wind.

"It's too bright out here," she sighed, annoyed.

"It's beautiful," she murmured again.

"He's watching you, you know…" She breathed.

"I know…" Her voice was smaller.

"He thinks you're crazy," she giggled lightly.

"Aren't I," she asked quietly.

"Yes," she hissed. "Crazy. Dangerous. Beautiful."

She snipped another rose and placed it into the basket and sighed.

"You let him kill me," she continued.

Elena lifted her hand up, almost violently, turning her face from the window.

"No. No," her voice shook, "You let him have me. On the floor. You let him degrade me and you…"

"I saved you," she said again.

"I know."

"Elena," Damon walked onto the porch. "Is everything okay?"

He held his drink and began to swill it in the glass.

Elena turned, squinting against the sunlight. She delicately tugged at the brim of her hat and smiled. She lifted her basket.

"Pretty, huh?"

Damon nodded as he took a sip of the julep.

"Beautiful," he said, his eyes gazing into hers from across the lawn.

Elena felt her face flush and she looked away and into the basket. She watched as her hand curled around one of the flowers and crushed it harshly between her fingers. The petals rolled in between her thumb and index finger. She frowned, feeling very warm and lightheaded all of a sudden.

"Stop it," she whispered to herself, feeling dizzy.

"Elena?"

Damon watched as Elena picked up her gaze to him with deliberate slowness.

"Yes, Damon?" She asked sweetly.

"Did you want to rest," he asked. "You look a little tired."

She threw the basket carelessly on the grass and brushed her hands together, ridding the last bits of petals from her fingers.

"Love to."

She walked across the lawn—swinging her hips and keeping her gaze level with his.

As she walked up the porch, she glided her hand across his shirt as she passed him and into the house.

Damon watched her saunter into the living room, the scent of jasmine mingling in her wake.

It was obvious that the battle was far from over.


	26. Games

Present.

He realized he was kissing her. But he just couldn't shake off the impregnable grip of sleep. He floated in and out on consciousness. Her mouth claimed his as her fingers dove through his hair. Her skin was like marble—cold and smooth and she slid against him like butter. His mind wove through the darkness—only coming up for proverbial air for a brief moment. A kiss. A touch. A moan.

Elena…

She kissed a trail down his chest and her mouth claimed its prize. He moaned lightly, his hands uncoordinated as he tried to wake up. He heard his sheets rustle and she slid on top of him, putting him deep inside of her. She moved slowly, deliberately, as if she wanted him to come to his full consciousness slowly. And he did so. She rocked him inside of her, her hand lightly braced against his chest. Damon's eyes fluttered open as he pushed away the last few cobwebs of sleep. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were closed as she moved on top of him. Damon gripped her hip with one hand as the other slid over her breast. He slid his thumb over her nipple eliciting a shiver through her body. She leaned forward, her mouth capturing his. His tongue moved languidly against hers.

"Damon…" She whispered urgently.

Damon gripped the side of her ribcage and he rolled quickly, pinning her underneath him. His hand slid along her thigh as he thrust inside her at a calculatingly slow pace. Elena's neck arched, her head thrown back into the pillows. Her legs wrapped around Damon, bringing him deeper inside of her. His hands moved to either side of her face and he kissed her. His tongue explored her, savored her. His fangs slid over her bottom lip, nicking it ever so slightly. She hissed quietly as Damon sucked on her lip, bringing forth the dark blood that coursed her veins. He bit again, harder this time, and bringing a stronger flow onto his tongue. Elena shuddered, her nails digging into the back of Damon's neck. His moan was low, guttural. His pace began to quicken, his forehead now pressed against Elena's shoulder.

More…

Elena's hands tangled in his hair as she felt warmth start to build inside of her. Damon's hands gripped her hips roughly, anchoring her to the bed as he plunged harder inside of her. He bit into her shoulder, his fangs slicing through her skin like a razor. Elena cried out, feeling her body tense as she drew near to her crescendo. Damon fisted the sheets into his hands as he entered the point of no return. It was mindless, wonderful. He drove himself inside her again…again…closer…closer…again…almost…

When she began to cry out his name, it signaled his release. The wave of pleasure was indescribable and he moaned, hard, into her shoulder. His entire body was shaking as was hers. He lay on top of her, unable to incite the energy to move. He kissed her shoulder, watching lazily as her wound was already beginning to heal. She turned her head towards her shoulder and kissed his temple. After a long moment, he slid out of her, feeling her body shake from sensitivity. He replaced his hardness with his fingers, watching her tremble underneath him. Their wetness mingled on his fingers and he massaged his thumb over her clit.

Elena didn't think she could come again. But as she was getting lost inside of his gaze, his fingers on her, she could feel her body beginning to respond. Shards of pleasure were beginning to envelop her. His movements were methodical—he knew her body. He knew how to make her respond to him. Her back arched into his hand and he smiled. He slid down her abdomen. His mouth replaced his fingers—his tongue moving expertly over her. Tasting her—tasting himself fused with her. He savored her—kissing, licking. Her legs became taut as they were curled over his shoulders. Her thigh began to shake and when she came, Elena nearly felt paralyzed from gratification. She almost wanted to cry as her body throbbed with joy. The intensity was almost indescribable.

Damon lay back on the bed beside her, pulling her against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, her leg bent over his. He kissed her forehead. Nothing was said for a long moment.

It had been so long since they had been together last. It had been so long since he had last touched her skin, kissed her breasts, and bury himself inside of her. In his silence he relived the last hour all the way down to the last detail.

It had been so long since Elena had last been in Damon's bed. It was before Katherine had kidnapped her. It was when Stefan was still alive. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had kissed him, touched him, and tasted him. And yet it was all so familiar. He touched her as if there wasn't a moment that he was away from her. He knew her. She looked upward at him. His eyes were closed, his dark hair swept across his forehead. He was like a God—his features chiseled in ivory. Her hand reached up, her fingers sliding over his lips.

He puckered his lips lightly against her index finger, kissing it. He opened his eyes and cast his eyes downward at her—at her watching him.

"What are you thinking," he asked softly.

"That you're the most beautiful man that I've ever seen," she whispered.

Damon scoffed and closed his eyes.

"Nah," he said casually.

She nodded against his shoulder.

"It's true."

"Well, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Silence hung in the air for a long moment as Elena thought of Katherine.

"Are you hungry," he asked, changing the subject.

Elena thought on it for a moment.

"Actually, yes, I am. Starving now that I think of it."

Damon kissed her head quickly.

"Well, I know how much you are averse to hunting for your meal, so I'll go grab a blood bag for you."

"You're so sweet to me," she playfully mocked.

"Mmhmm."

Damon stood out of bed, the moon shining through the window and casting a bluish glow across his naked body. He walked out of the room and Elena listening until his steps fell away.

She pushed her hair out of her face.

_"Well, I'll tell you one thing," she purred brazenly, "That boy has always known how to fuck."_

Elena sat up in bed quickly.

"Get out of here," she hissed to herself.

_"Don't be so greedy, 'Lena. Sharing is caring, as they say," she laughed._

"Stop it now. Please."

_"Oh what? You knew I was here. You knew you could feel me," she said icily._

And she had. Elena could feel her. She couldn't explain how. But she could eventually figure out when Katherine was seeping into her. And as she had been close to climax, she had felt it. She felt her watching, feeling. She shuddered at the thought.

"I don't care. Go away. Stop trying to ruin this for me," she cried softly.

_"Ruin what? Happily ever after? Damon doesn't do happily ever afters and you know it. And how dare you speak to me about ruining everything. I'm the one without a body, right?"_

"Apparently not."

_"Astute. Very astute."_

"Please…"

_"I should have let him kill you. I'd still be alive if I had. Where is my fucking thanks, Elena? A stake in the fucking heart?"_

Elena let out a sickly moan, her hands covering her face as she rocked back and forth. Images of Klaus filled her head.

"Stop it. Stop it. Stop it," She whispered urgently.

And then as suddenly as she had made her presence known, Katherine was quiet. Gone. For now.

She heard Damon's footsteps ascending the stairs and he walked in with several bags of blood.

When he entered, she was sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up against her chest, her arms wrapped across her shins.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"Nothing," Elena shook her head. "Just hungry, I guess."

Damon tore open the bags and poured the thick blood into a tall decanter. He grabbed a glass and walked over to the bed, pouring it for Elena. He handed it to her. She drank quietly, the veins becoming more prominent across her face.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

Damon sat the decanter on the night stand and sat on the bed. After Elena cleaned her glass, he took in from her and held her hand.

"Elena," he asked.

Elena looked up at him.

"We need to talk."

Dread filled her. Talk? And then she was filled with a sudden strength…

"No," her tone was firm.

"Yes," he said gently. "There are some things going on with you that-"

She wrenched her hand away from his and climbed off of the bed.

"Enough. I'm going to bed."

She angrily grabbed her silk chemise off of the floor and yanked open the door.

"I know who you are right now," he said casually.

She stopped in her tracks and turned back towards Damon. A wicked smile was on her lips and her brow arched in amusement.

"Is that right?"

"Katherine," he stated.

She laughed and walked towards Damon and stood against the edge of the bed, positioning herself in between his legs.

"Top marks for the golden boy," she smirked. "Let's give him a prize."

Her hand began to slide in between his legs.

Damon grabbed her hand violently and stood. His other hand went to her throat.

"I got rid of you once," he said coldly, "And I can just as easily do it again."

Her face contorted and her fangs unsheathed.

"Don't underestimate me, Damon," she rasped. "This is a different game. No rules. And you have everything to lose."

"So do you."

Katherine put her hand over Damon's at her throat. She squeezed his grip harder.

"You know how much I loved it when you choked me," she whispered wickedly.

Damon released his grip and pushed her away from him. He turned his back on her and grabbed the decanter, drinking from its glass lip.

She grabbed her gown again and walked towards the door.

"Goodnight, lover," she called out over her shoulder.

Damon put the decanter down, his hand still gripping it tightly. His body shook with rage. He hurled the carafe against the wall, blood splattering everywhere.

He watched as it dripped down the wall like teardrops.

He hated her.


	27. Burn

Present.

Damon switched his weight from one foot and to the other as he stood in the shadow of Most Precious Blood Catholic Church in Mystic Falls. It was a tall foreboding building of carved granite. A bell tower stood on the north side of the church with its steeple standing stalwart towards the heavens. Damon didn't _do_ churches. Of course there was the obvious obstacle—crosses. But beyond that, he had issues w/ theology even before he died. And after he was turned, he was convinced that there wasn't a God at all. No God would allow for the creation of vampires. And yet here he was, standing in front of the church. His mind wandered to his childhood—saying vespers as he knelt beside mother. Or to be more correct—he remembered fidgeting with a clay marble in his pocket while mother said vespers.

_O God, come to my air. O Lord, make haste to help me…_

Damon was roused from his thoughts as the large copper bell rung solemnly, methodically. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled one out. He held it limply in between his lips for a moment before lighting it. He watched as the parishioners poured out of the church, dressed in their Sunday's best. Families gathered with other families to laugh and talk and discuss where to have lunch. They packed into their minivans and sedans and drove away. He thought of his own mother again, inviting friends over for tea after church. Now days, everyone headed to Ihop.

He walked up the steps of the church, flicking his half smoked cigarette onto the ground. He crushed it under his foot before walking into the church. As soon as he walked in, he could feel the ever so subtle smolder radiating off his skin from the holy crosses around the cathedral. He began to down the aisle, his fingers sliding over the edge of the pews.

"This is a house of God," a voice proclaimed shakily.

Damon turned to find a nun, rosary beads in a vice grip, standing near the vestibule. He could smell her fear.

"Whatever you say, Sister," he said nonchalantly. "And where might I find the _padre_?"

"I am Father McLaughlin," said a steady voice.

Damon turned away from the nun and towards the altar. A priest not much older than 40, walked from the sacristy to the front of the aisle and acknowledged Damon. He wore a dark cassock to his feet. His brown hair was beginning to grey at the temples and curled at the base of his neck. Damon studied him for a moment, saying nothing.

"You are not welcome here, vampire," Father McLaughlin said quietly.

Damon walked towards him, smirking.

"Who knew a man of the cloth would be so judge-y?"

His face contorted—mainly for theatrics.

"How did you know I was a vampire?"

"The Vatican has privately acknowledged your kind for centuries."

Damon scoffed to himself. His face relaxed and his teeth retracted.

"What a fun fact," he said dryly. "Look, Father, I need you to come with me."

"We do not consort with demons."

"This isn't a negotiation."

Damon felt the sudden pressure of a stake at his back.

"G-God also does not negotiate."

Damon looked bored. He peered over his shoulder at the frightened but determined nun. He turned back towards Father McLaughlin.

"You _do _know that I can break her neck before she has a chance to blink."

The priest raised his hand to the nun.

"It's quite alright, Mary Alice. He will not harm me here. Not when it is so obvious that he wants something. You can excuse yourself. It'll be fine."

The nun lowered her stake and backed away carefully. Once she reached the vestibule, she ran out of the church.

Damon's entire body felt warm. It wasn't unpleasant, but he wasn't pleasant either. His eyes briefly flickered over the cross at the altar.

"What do you know about exorcisms," he asked suddenly.

The priest rubbed his chin for a moment, staring at Damon with a look of confusion and leeriness. He sat down in the first row of pews, one arm resting on each leg.

"I know that they are not the be taken lightly. They are for the most disturbed, most possessed individuals…for those who still have a modicum of salvation hidden within their breast."

"Right, right."

Damon hopped over the pew and sat beside Father McLaughlin, staring ahead.

"What about an exorcism on, say, a vampire?"

"Impossible."

Damon turned his face to him swiftly.

"Why?"

"You're dealing with prayers…holy water…crosses. And you're forgetting that your kind, vampire, are demons. If you even found someone willing to do an exorcism, it might just kill the vampire entirely. How can we discern one demon from the other?"

Damon stood quickly, his mind racing.

He was running out of options.

* * *

The marble was cool beneath her feet as she stood, naked, in the Salvatore living room.

_"I'm hungry," it was nearly a growl._

"Well, I'm not," Elena flounced towards the couch, sinking into the leather.

_"Bullshit," she spat. "I'm not imagining a fucking hunger pang."_

Elena's body jerked into standing position.

"Fine," she hissed.

_"That's better. Quit trying to punish me. It's counterproductive, mon amour."_

Elena moved to grab her silk robe but her hand involuntarily froze in mid-air.

_"I don't want a robe. I want to be naked."_

Elena snatched the robe and put it on quickly.

"You also want to eat. Let me put it on or I'll make sure we starve."

She sighed loudly and walked towards the door of the basement.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Elena froze in her tracks.

She began to move towards the door with the stealth of a cat. She pressed her body to the door just as a knock was hammered against it. She shut her eyes.

"Who is it?"

"Mystic Flowers! You have a delivery," a woman called out.

Elena's hands slid up the door. _She wanted to open it._ She wanted to run.

"I didn't order any flowers…" She said.

"Um...well someone is sending flowers to an Elena Gilbert," the voice sounded confused. "Maybe this is the wrong house…"

Elena swung open the door suddenly. The woman held a large bouquet of white roses, jasmine and lilies.

Elena smiled, her hands clasped, but nervous.

"Oh how pretty! Come in, come in!"

She plucked the envelope from the bouquet and directed the woman to put the vase on the hall entry table.

Elena opened the envelope pulled out the card, reading it.

_For us. Love, Katherine._

Her eyes drifted upward to the woman setting down the flowers.

"No," she managed to whisper.

Just then her entire body felt as if it were wrapped in dark coldness. Her arms rose involuntarily and she felt her fangs extend. She was like a prisoner in her body when she saw herself descend upon the florist employee before immersing into the blackness of her mind.

* * *

When Damon came upon the Salvatore boarding house, the first thing he noticed was the Mystic Florist Van. Then it was the overpowering scent of blood.

She was standing at the door, her white silk robe covered in blood, her tongue sliding across her fangs.

Damon's gaze was hard, contemplating…

"Elena…"

"…is gone," Katherine said viciously.

Damon's eyes scanned the floor. It was as if someone splattered paint across the floor, across the tapestries. Except it was blood. A hand, still in a fist, was thrown against the wall. A head was lying at Katherine's feet.

"What in the fuck have you done," Damon snarled, slamming the door behind him.

He rushed Katherine, grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her.

She tried to break free of his grip but he held her fast.

"You're not in your 400 plus year old body anymore, honey. I'm stronger than you."

"And what are you going to do," she asked excitedly, "Kill me? If you kill me you kill her. And don't you forget it, lover."

Damon's face contorted with rage.

"Elena," he called out, imploring her to overpower Katherine.

Katherine rolled her eyes.

"She's in her room," she tapped her head and grabbed Damon's belt. "She can't play. But I can. Do you want to play with me?"

Damon pushed her away, disgusted.

She laughed and slid her hand under the loose knot in her robe, pulling it loose. The robe parted—her naked body visible.

"For Christ's sake, put something on," Damon looked away.

Katherine slid her hand across her breast, catching a bead of blood. She brought it to her lips, smearing it like gloss.

"Why would I when you're enjoying the show?"

Damon caught sight of the note that came with the flowers. It was soft, soaked in blood. But Katherine's signature stared back at him.

"You planned this," he said.

"A girls gotta eat," she shrugged. "She wanted me to drink cold donor's blood. Disgusting. The neck is the only fucking decanter I drink from. Not a plastic bag."

"You're being sloppy. Are you trying to get us caught?"

Katherine shrugged and pranced into the living room.

Damon walked after her, grabbing her wrist.

"What are you up to?"

"God, I love it when you're aggressive," she said between gritted teeth. "I'm up to no good, lover. And when I'm done, you'll be at my mercy."

"Elena…!"

"Stop shouting," Katherine winced. "And like I said—she isn't here now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Katherine smiled triumphantly.

Damon nodded as he reached into his jacket pocket. Before Katherine had time to react, he unscrewed a bottle and thrust its contents into her face. Holy water. She fell to her knees, screaming in agony.

Her shriek was in pain, in rage. Her face was on fire, clumps of skin melting into her hands. She could hear it sizzling. She laid onto her back. Her vision blurred. A shadow loomed over her and she knew it was Damon.

"Good," she heard his voice call.

It was far away. Distant. As if she were on the edge of sleep and he spoke….

"Don't worry, you'll heal."

And then she felt nothing.


	28. Words

**Present.**

The warmth of her face is what awoke her.

Elena moaned, her eyes opening into small slits. She began to move positions and found resistance. She opened her eyes and looked towards the bedpost to find her wrist bound to it with a leather restraint. She was confused and suddenly wary. She tried to shift her leg and realized they were also bound and tied. Each limb was tied to one of the four posts of the massive bed. She was dressed in a light, sleeveless periwinkle dress of a sheer open weave cotton fabric. She whimpered lightly, pulling at the restraints and receiving no give.

"You won't be able to get out of them," Damon said softly.

Elena turned and noticed Damon sitting in a chair across the room. One leg was crossed over the other with his hands clasped across his knee.

"Damon," Elena called out. "What's going on?"

"It's for your own good, Elena…"

"What…?" Her tone was panicked…overly so.

Damon slid off his chair and walked towards the bed. He sat on the edge and stared down at Elena suspiciously.

"I know you've downplayed how you've been feeling since…since New Orleans."

"Damon, no…"

"Yes."

His tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingers sliding over her glossy locks.

"Katherine is inside you."

"No, Damon, it's just me," she shook her head dramatically. "Please. You're scaring me."

"I'm really not trying to, honey. But I have to keep you here. She's a threat to us."

Elena's eyes, hard, narrowed slightly.

"So there's nothing I can do to convince you?"

"Not until I can figure out how to help rid you of her," Damon shook his head and leaned down, kissing her forehead.

Elena's face turned suddenly and her fangs, unsheathed, snapped at Damon. Her eyes were large, angry. And the veins on her face were bulging rivers of blue. Damon's face flew back with scant centimeters to spare.

"You're a fool," she said.

Damon's heart lurched. _Katherine. _His suspicion was confirmed.

"You can't get rid of me! I'm part of her and getting stronger every day. Soon Elena will be just a memory. Untie me, Damon, _now_."

"You know I won't do that."

"Just let it be already. This was meant to happen. This is supposed to happen!"

"You're crazy."

"Of course I'm crazy, Damon. I've always been crazy. That's what you used to love about me. My God, don't you remember me? Remember us?"

Damon stood and walked to the window.

"I don't want to remember," he said icily.

"But you do. You remember our eyes meeting across the room. You remember how it felt to touch me. You remember stealing away in the thick of night to be with me. You remember everything, Damon. I see it every time you look at me."

"I don't look at _you_. I look through you. The only person I look at is Elena."

"Always Elena! It doesn't matter, love. She is a part of my soul—a part of my being. And I'm just finally taking it back. Taking her back. When you look at her, you are looking at me."

"It doesn't work that way, Katherine," he raised his voice, banging his fist against the wall.

"I saw your face," she whispered, shutting her eyes. "I saw your eyes after you pushed the stake through my heart. You still cared about me. I saw it. I felt it."

Damon turned and stared, saying nothing.

"I still love you, Damon. Don't you see? Everything happened because it was supposed to happen. You were supposed to kill me. I was destined to come back. I was meant to be here—in this moment. With you. I was meant to be with you."

His expression was guarded. He moved onto the bed, facing her. Her eyes were wild, pleading. Tears spilled from the corner of her eye and she looked away. Damon reached out, his thumb wiping away her tear. She moved, her lips pressing into his palm. His hand moved languidly, curling snugly around her throat. He leaned in, his face inches from hers. His eyes were cold.

"Do you know what I remember? I remember your eyes meeting mine across the room. And then meeting my brother's eyes. I remember you stealing in the thick of night to be with him. I remember everything, Katherine. I remember your games. I remember you killing my brother. And I remember you standing over Elena's body in New Orleans. Did you think I'd just forget? You disgust me. I don't love you. I hate you. I will give you credit, though. This was a fresh tactic. But a failed one."

He pushed her face away from him and stood.

She was screaming, thrashing wildly against her restraints. Her hair whipped in front of her face like a shroud. She was uncontrollable. He watched her for a long moment. She was as rabid as a dog and just as dangerous.

Damon slowly reached up, putting his hand over hers. She dug her nails into his flesh. He closed his eyes as blood seeped out from underneath the vice grip of her fingers.

"Elena," he called softly. His blood dripped onto her wrist.

"There is no fucking Elena," Katherine howled. She dug her fingers into his hand even harder.

Damon gently pressed his fingers into the back of her hand.

"Elena," he called again.

"I'm stronger than her Damon, I can make her stay away."

"Elena…come here."

Katherine shook, growling. Her body was racked with spasms and she began to mumble. And then suddenly fell limp, her grip released on Damon's hand. But he continued to hold hers. His other hand brushed her hair out of her face. Concern was etched into his expression. And when her eyes fluttered open, he knew it was Elena. His shoulders sagged with relief.

She burst into tears almost instantly.

Damon, his resolve wavering, moved to untie her restraints but Elena screamed.

"No! No! Leave them!"

Damon froze.

"Get her out of me, Damon, please. Just get her out of me."

She was nearly hysterical. Damon wiped her tears, trying to calm her.

"I'm trying. But I don't know what in the hell I'm supposed to do."

"The exorcism, Damon. You have to do it. I was there when you threw the holy water on her. I felt her get weaker," she said quickly.

"But did you get weaker?"

"I can't live like this," she dodged his question. "I can't."

"You could die. I won't risk it."

"I'm already dying," she screamed.

Silence.

Damon's eyes searched hers. And before she could say another word, he yanked the restraints off of the bedpost. One arm, and then the other. One leg, and then the other. He grabbed her by her forearm and pulled her roughly into his lap.

Elena cried, her face pressed into his chest. Her hands curled around the fabric of his shirt. She was shaking violently—alternately struggling with her emotions and pushing Katherine away from her consciousness.

Damon rocker her slowly, stroking her arm and stroking her hair.

Elena closed her eyes and pushed her face upwards, pressing her lips to Damon. Damon's hands cupped her face urgently. Her arms went around his neck in a frantic grip—he was her anchor in a raging sea.

"Promise me you'll do it," she whispered desperately, kissing him again.

"Elena…"

"Promise," her voice raised slightly. Her tears were rolling down her face.

Damon could taste the saltiness of it in her kiss. He could also taste her anxiousness.

"I promise," he said finally, shutting his eyes as she rested her cheek against his shoulder.

She wanted him. Needed him. Just as she always had. Damon was her grounding force. He had watched over her when Stefan had disappeared. He saved her went cancer was ravaging her body. He stopped Katherine's compelled minions from poisoning her. In her darkest days, she had never quite realized how much Damon had supported her. Despite his anger, his biting temper—when she began to falter, Damon was always there forcing her to keep her balance.

"I love you," whispered suddenly, almost as if she just realized it. And maybe she just had.

She felt his entire body stiffen.

If his heart could beat, it would be exploding out of his chest. He hadn't comprehended how much he had wanted her to say it. And here were her words—plain as day. And he was frozen. Paralyzed. It was as if he lost all capability of speech. She had finally said it. And he was afraid.

And so his grip tightened around her shoulders.

He didn't say a word.


	29. Ache

**Present.**

It was a peculiar feeling to make a declaration of love and not have it reciprocated. It hurt Elena—far more than she wanted to admit. He had stayed silent, though he was very tender towards her. But he didn't acknowledge her words in the slightest. She wondered of his capacity for love. Did he even have it anymore? Did he ever? This was Damon she was talking about. He was ruthless, cold. But he had saved her many times, hadn't he? He came to New Orleans for her, didn't he? If it wasn't love, what was it?

_"Pride," her voice was mocking. "You are his shiny new toy. He just didn't want anyone else to have you. First from Stefan, then from me and then from Klaus. He's like a spoiled child."_

She had no retort. Because it was what she had been thinking herself. Just a toy.

Her arms yanked at her restraints. She looked up at them.

_"You both think you're so clever. It's not over, you know..."_

Elena sighed, shutting her eyes.

_"Oh, so you're going to ignore me now?"_

"I have nothing to say."

_"The strong and opinionated Elena Gilbert has nothing to say? Well, I'm just scandalized."_

"I take that back. I do have something to say."

_"Shocking," she deadpanned. _

"I'm sorry."

She felt herself tense as she began to speak softly.

"I'm sorry for the life you lived. I'm sorry that you lived under someone like Klaus for so long. I'm sorry that you allowed it to turn you into a jaded and cruel person. I'm sorry that Emily took a part of your soul as protection and that that protection was me. And yes, I'm even sorry that Damon killed you. Because despite how much I hated you…you saved me. And I couldn't save you. I _can't _save you. This isn't your body, Katherine, it's mine. And I'm sorry, but you can't stay here."

She laughed. It was cruel, mocking.

Tears were rolling down Elena's cheeks.

Just then she heard the muffled sound of voices from the floor below.

"Damon's home," Elena whispered.

_"If I die," Katherine whispered, "I'm taking you with me."_

Elena shrugged.

"I wouldn't expect you to try anything less."

* * *

It's amazing what a few threats can do for a person, Damon marveled. All it took was a promise to do harm to his congregation, and Father McLaughlin agreed to do the exorcism. It would not be, though, without Damon's cautious presence. He didn't want Father McLaughlin to try and martyr himself at the 11th hour. And he made sure to let him that he had a very watchful eye on him.

When they walked into the Boarding House, the priest marveled at the pristine condition of the house. The dark antiques and rich décor wasn't what he had expected. In fact, he had expected something akin to a "crack den." And a crack den this was not. It was expertly furnished and he had to admit it was impressive.

As they begin to ascend the stairs, Father McLaughlin spoke.

"May I ask you a question" he asked.

"No."

"If you don't believe in the Lord, why are you doing an exorcism? Don't you find it pointless that I pray for a demon to be expelled? Shouldn't nothing happen, then?"

Damon stopped at the top of the stairs. The priest, in front of him, stopped as well.

"Don't people often turn to God when they have nothing left, Father?"

Damon watched as the Father's eyes changed—they were pleased, sad. He had no way of knowing, but that one simple sentence would later cause the priest to question the humanity of a vampire. Because it was clear, in that very moment, that Damon clearly cared for someone beyond himself.

"Can I trust you to stay outside of the room for a moment, padre," Damon asked tiredly. "I need a moment."

When Damon entered Elena's room, he saw that she was alert, her eyes on him.

_"Have you come to give me my last rites?"_

"Don't listen to her, Damon."

Damon sat on the edge of the bed, smiling lightly, though it did not reach his eyes.

"I'm not," he said.

_"Oh, he'll listen if he knows what's good for him. Won't you, lover?"_

Elena groaned, frustrated.

"I'm sorry."

Damon covered her foot with his hand reassuringly. He pulled out a silk handkerchief from his shirt pocket.

"Don't be. The priest is waiting outside. I asked him to give us a minute."

_"I'll be holding her in my death grip, Damon. She is coming with me. But if you let me go—let us go, we can start over. We can start a new life together. We can go to Greece and lay naked on the beaches together or I don't fucking know. Whatever. We can be happy."_

"I'm going to have to blindfold you, Elena," he ignored Katherine, "Because I don't want the priest being compelled when he looks at you. We pretty much only have one shot at this and I we can't risk it."

Elena nodded quickly.

"Okay,"

Damon moved up the bed and began to put it blindfold on. Elena's head jerked roughly with Katherine's guidance.

_"You sorry sonofabitch. You're brother was always better than you. You know that? Always!"_

"Yeah," Damon said quietly as he held her steady and knotted the silk behind her head. He cupped the side of her face—feeling her tense and un-tense. He could physically feel the battle between Elena and Katherine. It hurt him. His thumb brushed over her lips. He knew that at any moment, Katherine could snap her jaws at him. Even so, he lightly brushed his lips against hers. It was aching inside his chest—that unmoving, silent mass that resided underneath his ribcage. It was his heart. And it ached. He pulled another handkerchief from his pocket.

"I'm also going to have to…" He trailed off as he tied the fabric across Elena's mouth.

He stood back, watching her struggle with her eyes blindfolded and her mouth gagged. The muscles in her thin arms flexed and alternately relaxed as she yanked against her restraints. But it was of no use. He shifted his eyes to the floor as he walked to the door and beckoned Father McLaughlin inward.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say.

Father McLaughlin took one step into the room, looked at Elena, and froze.

"Is all that bondage necessary," he asked, wary.

"Yes," Damon's tone offered no room for any more questions.

Father McLaughlin was dressed in a dark surplice with a purple silk stole around his neck. He was pale with fear but his eyes were filled with determination. He had prayed the better part of the afternoon for the strength to perform this exorcism. It was going to be the most significant moment in life and he needed all the guidance that his Lord cound muster.

"Then," Father McLaughlin said steadily, "Let us begin."


	30. Exorcism

**Present.**

Candles flickered softly in Elena's room. The eerie glow that was cast about the room made everyone shiver.

Damon watched as Elena/Katherine struggled against her bondage. The bed had been moved to the center of the room. The Priest stood strong on the left hand side of Elena while Damon stood on the right side of the bed, his legs pressed against the mattress.

Father McLaughlin raised his hand and made a sign of the cross over himself. He then extended his hand, and made the sign over Damon.

Damon winced slightly, feeling his body smolder. He watched as the priest's arm hovered over Elena. And as he began to make the sign of the cross, he spoke.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

Elena cried out and Damon shut his eyes to keep from seeing her body beginning to burn, a light smoke rising off her skin. Her scream of pain and anger were muffled against the silk cutting into her mouth. And the smell…!

The priest raised his silver aspergillum and flicked his wrist towards Damon, holy water sprinkled forth and singed on contact. He knew it was coming. Father McLaughlin had told him the entire steps of the exorcism. He refused to be a spectator. If Elena was going to hurt, so would he. So he bit down on his tongue, grunting, as the holy water settled onto his skin, sizzling. He opened his eyes and watched as the wand was aimed towards Elena. It was like slow motion—he watched the droplets of holy water take flight and land across Elena's face and chest. She reacted instantly. The muscles on her arms became prominent and her legs became taut. Her back arched and her chest pressed upward. He watched the beads of water evaporate on her skin, hissing like a snake, burning her beautiful skin. She began to cry.

Father McLaughlin fell to his knees and began to recite "The Litany of the Saints."

"Lord have mercy," he said, pausing for Damon's response.

Damon hesitated before moving onto his knees, clasping his hands.

"…Lord….have mercy," Damon repeated.

"Christ have mercy," the priest said.

"Christ have mercy," Damon echoed.

Damon repeated the appropriate words as he had been dictated. He shut his eyes…if only she wouldn't scream…! It was torture. She was calling out to him. Her words were muffled, but he knew she was calling out to him. He pressed his forehead into the comforter.

Farther McLaughlin then began to deliver the words of Psalm 53.

"God, by your name, save me…"

He stood and clasped his hands in prayer. Damon stood as well, staring down at Elena. Her blindfold had slipped some, and her right eye was partially visible. It was fixated on him. It was the most hard, angry, and intense gaze he had ever received from her. And he knew, at that moment, she was Katherine. Her eye was red. The veins on her neck and face were obvious now. She stared at him with the energy from a thousand burning suns. Her eye shut tightly and she groaned loud—like a feral animal.

"God, whose nature is ever merciful and forgiving, accept our prayer that this servant of yours, bound by the fetters of sin, may be pardoned by your loving kindness…"

He signed the cross over Elena again. Her dress began to singe. Her skin was burning—from her face to her chest and across her shoulders. The silk that covered her eyes and covered her mouth was beginning to light on fire from the heat. Damon reached out quickly, grabbing it, uncovering her eyes and freeing her mouth. It came to pieces in his hands and he threw it away from Elena. She turned her face towards him, Elena-her skin bubbling, and reassured him with the slightest of nods. She trembled.

'Its okay,' she mouthed.

"Holy Lord, almighty Father, everlasting God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who once and for all consigned that fallen and apostate tyrant to the flames of hell, who sent your only-begotten Son into the world to crush that roaring lion; hasten to our call for help and snatch from ruination and from the clutches of the noonday devil this being made in your image and likeness. Strike terror, Lord, into the beast now laying waste your vineyard. Fill your servants with courage to fight manfully against that reprobate dragon, lest he despise those who put their trust in you, and say with Pharaoh of old: "I know not God, nor will I set Israel free." Let your mighty hand cast him out of your servant, Elena, so he may no longer hold captive this person whom it pleased you to make in your image, and to redeem through your Son; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever"

Her face became tense; all of the capillaries in her eyeballs began to rupture. Her eyes swiftly filled with blood and she blinked, bloody tears slithering down her face. Her laugh was deep, loud—unafraid. Even at her most desperate hour, Katherine was a warrior. The restraints on her feet snapped off as she bent her knees roughly to her chest.

_"She isn't your servant, Priest! You have no power here!"_

Father McLaughlin continued to pray. Katherine swung her face towards Damon.

"You treacherous bastard. I hope you're happy. SHE is in pain. Not me."

She yanked at her arm restraints and turned back towards the priest.

"Stop praying," she said calmly. "Put your bible down and leave."

Damon watched as Katherine's eyes dilated when she spoke.

"Katherine!"

The priest paused in his prayer, his eyes connected with hers. His smile was wry.

"It is you who have no power here, vampire" he said calmly. And then he continued to pray.

Katherine screamed with frustration. She yanked at her restraints and Damon heard the ever so slight sound of splintering wood. His eyes slid over to the bedpost that secured her left arm. God, if only this priest could hurry. He wondered how much more abuse these damn bedposts could endure. She fell limp again and he knew that again, he was in the presence of Elena. She was staring heavenward, reciting a prayer to herself.

"Just leave," she whispered.

_"Over your dead body."_

Elena's entire body was heated. It felt like lava was swishing through her veins. Her heart felt engorged in her chest and there was a strange rhythmic fluttering throughout her body. She felt very…lightheaded. She could feel the storm inside of her that was Katherine. She was volatile, irate and in pain despite what she claimed. Every cell in Elena's body was reacting. Her eyes were starting to go dark and she struggled to keep them open. Katherine yanked at her restraints. Elena heard the distant sound of cracking timber. She knew that Katherine heard it too. And her arm jerked again.

Father McLaughlin was sweating. He felt beads of perspiration slide down his face and down his neck. It was nearly unbearably hot. But he could not leave. Not when he was so close. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he forged ahead. This was a test to his faith. He began to recite the gospel according to Luke.

'Hurry,' Damon thought. His eyes on Elena as her arms pulled away from the bedposts.

"Hurry," he found himself saying aloud.

"You can't have her! I forbid it! This body is mine! It's always been mine!"

Elena's face was shaking from side to side. Her fingers extended unnaturally and then curled suddenly into a fist. Her face was covered in blood now and her eyes were rolling into the back of her head.

Damon felt himself go cold. This was too much…Elena couldn't handle this. It was killing her.

The priest made the sign of the cross over himself and then over Elena. She didn't scream. Not this time. Instead she was making a sickening repetitive sound as her face jutted forward. Her chest was rising and falling and she began to twist her torso unnaturally. Damon moved and laid his hand over Elena's heart. He looked up at Father McLaughlin.

"We have to stop," he said urgently, defeated.

The Priest lifted his hand and shook his head. He continued. He placed his stole across Elena's neck and continued to pray. Damon watched the smoke lifting off Elena's skin.

"I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every Satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell…"

Damon was pulled at two very different sides. The first wanted Katherine gone at all costs. The other didn't want harm to come to Elena. And he knew this was doing her so much harm. Her body began to reflex less. And the sound she had been making was no longer as fast—it was becoming sluggish…like a dying animal.

"Stop."

"Begone, then, in the name of the Father, + and of the Son, + and of the Holy + Spirit. Give place to the Holy Spirit by this sign of the holy + cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever."

Damon couldn't do this anymore. There had to be another way!

"STOP," His fangs became unsheathed and he moved to grab the Priest.

But before he even had a chance to move, Katherine yanked, growling, with all of her might on the restraint on her right hand. The leather snapped loudly. Her hand reached over and she clasped the left one, pulling. The bed post snapped in an awesome sight. She swung quickly and with the propulsion of her restraint—still attached—she struck Father McLaughlin throwing him back into the wall. Her body was also thrown off the bed. Her legs were still elevated, the tips of her feet pressed into the mattress. Her face was pressed down into the floor. She did not move. Damon jumped over the bed and grabbed Elena. His fangs stabbed into the leather restraint, freeing the last piece of bondage from Elena.

He turned her over into his lap.

"No," he heard himself say. It sounded confused, almost casual.

He could hear Father McLaughlin, barely conscious, listlessly whispering the end of his prayer.

She shuddered violently, as if she were seizing. Her eyes were like opaque glass. The blood on her face created dry riverbeds across her cheeks. He felt her entire body relax. And her mouth lay agape, still, from her final scream. Damon's eyes surveyed her quickly. A pain so severe flooded his senses. And he was sure that she was dead.

He brusquely brushed her hair out of her face with his hands, kissing her pale lips.

"No," he said in between kisses. "No."

He squeezed her unbearably tight against his chest. And he scooted both of them back against the wall.

"Elena!"

He gripped her shoulders, shaking her aggressively. Her head lolled like a ragdoll.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. No!"

He pressed her cheek against his cheek as he rocked back and forth. He shut his eyes tightly. This was his hell, his nightmare. It was a horrible mistake! He had never should have sought this priest! She was dead and it was because of him.

"It's gonna be okay, Love. It's gonna be okay…"

_Love._

Damon opened his eyes suddenly, turning his face into Elena's cheek. He took in her scent.

"Did you hear what I called you," he whispered.

He cradled her head in his hand, kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Elena, I love you," He screwed his eyes shut again. "You can't go without hearing me say it. You can't. Don't let her win. Not like this."

His lips captured hers tenderly, trying desperately to cling to the memory of what it felt like when it was reciprocated. So when her face moved, just barely, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Damon moved his face back.

"Elena?"

She said nothing; her eyes open just a fraction. A tear slipped down her face, moisturizing her dried blood.

"She's gone. Katherine is gone."


	31. Focus

_A/N: I apologize for the delay. I blame my lack of muse. And I want to take a moment to thank everyone who has reviewed my story. We are starting to near towards the end and I am incredibly humbled that you have come along for this journey._

**One month later.**

Screaming silence. That was the only way that Elena could describe it. So used to Katherine's constant invasion of her mind was she, that now with her gone, it was so quiet. Unnervingly so. She didn't miss her, don't misunderstand. But she had been so conditioned to it, that she suddenly felt strange. The quiet was too quiet. Even the smallest sound seemed amplified. And what about Katherine? Was she simply just…gone? Like that? She didn't know. She didn't want to know, really.

Elena was laid back on Damon's bed. Her eyes were covered with a satin eye mask. Her eyes hadn't quite recovered yet from that night a month ago. She felt their constant pulsating and knew that her body was slow to repair itself. As it was, she still had burn marks across her chest from the Holy water. She would heal, Damon had reassured her. It would just take time.

She heard him walking slowly up the stairs—one foot in front of the other across the floor. She felt her body tense with anticipation.

She was laying in bed, a cloud of pillows assisted in propping her up at her back. Her face turned towards the door when Damon came into the room. He held a tray in his hands. And it rattled softly as he walked towards her bed.

"I brought you things to eat… tea…scones."

A small smile formed on Elena's lips.

"How very British," she said softly.

"Shut up," Damon chided quietly, smiling.

He settled the tray across Elena's lap. He lifted the lid of a small jar—clotted cream infused w/ blood. It tinged the cream to a dark pink. He ripped a scone in half a smeared the mixture across the halved piece. He took Elena's hand and placed the pastry into her grasp. He then poured her a cup of Lavender tea in a charming bone china tea cup. He sat on the bed and watched as she brought the scone to her lips.

It was like an explosion to her senses. Sweet. Savory. The cream was the most amazing cream she'd ever tasted. And the fruit scone was outstanding—sprinkled with dates and nuts. Something about eating this with blood made everything almost taste normal. Like she was alive.

"There's blood in this cream," she gasped, turning her face upward, her mouth full.

"Mmhmm," Damon murmured as he leaned forward and wiped a pink spot of cream off the tip of Elena's nose.

"I didn't know you could cook."

"I'm just full of surprises," he said dryly.

"You are…" Elena said lightly, making Damon's heart lurch.

He cleared his throat and took the plate off of the tray as Elena drank her tea. He pushed forward a tiny plate with four square pieces of chocolate. Each was filled blood mixed with various jams. He hand fed each one to Elena, explaining what she was about to eat after each bite. He watched with a quiet pleasure as her features contorted into their vampiric state. Her veins darkened and bulged and he saw that her teeth had extended. She bowed her head, savoring every flavor.

"You're so damn beautiful," he heard himself say. He clamped his mouth shut and watched her face turn towards him with chocolate still on her fingers.

"You think I'm beautiful," she wondered aloud.

"Always have," he murmured. "And not just outside, but your insides too. It's your mind, your spirit. Everything."

Elena said nothing. She glided her fingers over the tray and found her tea cup, drinking the tea slowly. Thinking. She set it down again and folded her hands in her lap.

"You weren't like this…in the beginning," she said cautiously.

Damon lifted the tray off Elena's lap and placed it on the nightstand. He sat down again, his legs dangling off of the bed and turned his torso towards her.

"I know," he said finally.

"That's it?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

It came back to her in waves. All of the times that Damon belittled her. All of the times he had threatened her. She sat, unmoving, allowing the memories to bubble to the surface.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, suddenly icy, "maybe you could start with an apology?"

"If I apologize, it wouldn't be genuine," he said calmly. "Do you still want it?"

"Okay, this isn't where I thought this conversation was going to go."

"Where do you want it to go?"

"You said you loved me," she blurted out.

Damon ran his hands over his face.

"I know," he said after a pause and turned his body away from her.

"Why?"

"Why what," his voice grew strained.

"Did you say it because it's true or did you say it because you thought I was dead?"

Damon turned back to her suddenly.

"I would never say it unless I meant it," his voice held a dangerous kind of quiet. He turned his back on her again, his arms folded against his chest.

"Isn't this supposed to be the part where we kiss," she asked crestfallenly, her voice breaking.

Damon faced her suddenly, just in time to see a tear slip passed her mask and down her cheek. He softened instantly and reached up cupping her cheek. She pressed her face into his palm like a kitten as his thumb wiped away her tear. He kissed her forehead softly and bent his neck, pressing his forehead against hers.

"When we met," he said finally, "You turned my world upside. And it wasn't because you looked like Katherine. In fact, you were nothing like Katherine. In the past 146 years, I had conditioned myself to enjoying cruelty that it became something of a sport. Because I believed so much that I was living in a kind of hell, it left no room in my heart for kindness. I embraced the cold, dark place where so many vampires go. And then here you were this…_human_. And you held this fire inside of you. And you scared the hell out of me. A part of me always felt a magnetic pull to you but I just blamed it on blood lust. And when you had cancer, I told myself I was doing it to stick it to Stefan. But in reality…I wanted you. I wanted you to be mine. And the way that you started to look at me? I could tell that you were starting to have feelings for me. God, I just wanted to grab you and keep you safe. But I couldn't. I didn't trust my emotions almost as much as I didn't trust yours. How could I open myself up to you when I thought that you'd run out the door with Stefan if given the chance? I can't apologize because everything happened in the way that it was supposed to. Because if I changed anything different, we might not be here—in this moment. And I might not be sitting here to say that I love you, Elena Gilbert," his other hand slid, cupping the other side of her face. "I love you so much that looking at you fills me with something I never thought I'd feel: Joy. I've loved you for a long time but I just couldn't face it. Because it meant that I wouldn't have to be miserable anymore. Because it meant going somewhere and standing on a ground where I've never stood before. But now that I'm here, I don't know how I could have ever wanted to be anywhere else. I love you so much that it feels like my heart is beating again. Elena, I don't feel cold anymore. And it's because of you."

Elena was crying, nearly bawling as she leaned forward, capturing Damon's lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his closed eyelids. He kissed her cheeks, the hollow of her neck, the tip of her nose, her mouth. His hands slid between her shoulders and the bed, holding her tightly as he buried his face into her shoulder. They both shut their eyes, clinging to one another, not wanting to let go for fear that the other would disappear.

And they realized—this was what love truly felt like. And it was warm, exhilarating, and beautiful.

Elena reached up to take off her eye mask but Damon's hands beat her to it. He slid if off of her face and kissed her lightly over her lids. Elena took Damon's hands in her own as she slowly opened her eyes.

It was darkness at first. And it struck terror into her breast. Damon felt Elena's body tense and he in turn too tensed. But her shoulders soon relaxed and she blinked slowly, painfully. It was a dark shadow that she first saw. And that dark shadow was Damon.

Her eyes were red, raw. Her eyes were unfocused until they fell onto him. Her fingers moved deftly across his face, tracing her jaw. They slid over him like a paint brush, absorbing every detail. She wanted to memorize everything.

It was his eyes that became clear first. They were blue, piercing and much like beach glass. It was like a camera coming into focus. And there he was, staring down at her with his heart in his eyes. Damon. _Her _Damon.

"I see you," she whispered so sweetly.

And Damon smiled, relief flooding his senses, and kissed her mouth and made a trail of kisses down her neck and to her chest.

"I see you too," he said. He rested his head in the valley of her breasts and closed his eyes.

"Do you remember when you said that you weren't my Prince Charming," Elena said lazily.

Damon opened his eyes.

"Yes…"

"You were wrong."

Damon looked up, resting his chin on Elena's ribcage.

"Was I," he looked at her strangely, contemplating.

"Yes you were," she whispered.

The look that overtook his features was one that she had never seen before. It was such a warm look of pure delight. He kissed the side of her breast and moved up, claiming her mouth. He nipped at her lower lip and as soon as her mouth parted, his tongue dove inside. He savored her slowly, like a fine wine. His mouth twirled around hers as his hand gripped the side of her neck. He broke the kiss suddenly and looked at Elena with a strong gaze of intensity.

"Marry me," he demanded.

And it was so very like Damon. It wasn't a question, it was an order. And it was a command that she was more than willing to comply with.

"Yes," she said quickly. "Yes, I'll marry you."


	32. Ever After

The gown was a work of art. It was constructed from lace and lace appliqués. The romantic silhouette of Elena's wedding gown featured lace capped sleeves with a v-shaped neckline. The back of the dress had a key hole shaped back and a dreamy flared skirt that trailed behind her like a puddle of cream. Elena wore her hair in a simple up-do, her hair swept away from her face and pinned with a jeweled comb. She was glowing, preening in the mirror as she applied her dark red lipstick. This was it. This was the beginning of eternity with Damon. There had been a tightening in her chest for weeks. Nerves, she told herself. She knew she would relax once she was Mrs. Damon Salvatore. Elena smiled to herself. _Mrs. Damon Salvatore._ She would have never thought in a million years that this is where she would be. And yet, she wouldn't have it any other way.

It was high noon in Mystic Falls. It was a beautiful fall day and the leaves, colored red and gold, fluttered off the trees and into the breeze. They chose a small chapel deep in the woods as their venue. It was beautiful, solitary. It was made of gleaming cedar beams with a large high ceiling. There was no electricity but it wasn't needed with its large, wide paned windows. The sunlight streamed through the glass, tiny dust particles dancing in the focus. They chose to elope in a non-denominational ceremony. It was they against the world, after all.

Elena stood in the in front of the large mirror, surveying herself. She picked up a bottle of her favorite Chanel perfume and carefully sprayed a light mist at her neck. She felt lightheaded as she looked in the mirror, her lashes fluttering sofly.

_"We look perfect," she heard herself say._

Elena tensed instantly and stepped back. A half moan escaped her lips as she nearly tripped over her own feet.

"No, no, no!"

She hands lifted suddenly, her palms facing out.

_"Calm yourself," Katherine said softly._

_"_I knew it was too good to be true! I knew it! Oh, God…"

_"Elena, stop!"_

"What do you want?" Elena felt herself beginning to panic.

_"Well, I'm trying to see goodbye if you'd just relax."_

Elena froze, her eyes slowly rolling up towards the mirror, catching her reflection.

_"I'm leaving," Katherine continued._

"I thought you were already gone," she said shakily.

Katherine shrugged lightly.

_"I almost was…that fucking Priest really had it in for me with his chants and prayers. I got very…weak. Sometimes I couldn't even feel you, hear you. It was just…darkness. But I held on—even when I didn't know if I was holding on to anything at all."_

Elena sat down on her vanity stool, her head bowed. She slowly put her hands in her lap.

"And so you got stronger."

_"Yes."_

"And leaving? Why now?"

Katherine looked up into the mirror.

_"I'm tired."_

"Tired?"

_"I'm old, Elena. Older than you know. I've seen this world change before my eyes. And yet, I've never really noticed it. I ran for so long that the whole damn world passed me by. Klaus is gone now. My sire is dead. And I never really realized how much of my livelihood was wrapped up in him. What's left? I fought for my life. I fought for my freedom. And now here it is—so close. And I don't feel like I want it anymore. Anticipation is an interesting thing. I don't have anything left to fight for."_

"You don't want to fight me? You're giving up that easily? You don't want to fight for this body?"

"On some level," she laughed lightly. "On some level I do. Please don't tempt me. Because, as you know, I do _love_ that body. But if I did and won? Damon would never let me be. I couldn't rest. He'd always be there, trying to find you somewhere inside me. Trying to bring you back. Unless I kill him."

"No!"

_"Calm down. I'm not going to kill Damon. I don't want to kill Damon. I already killed Stefan. I'm just trying to do the right thing, damnit. Let me do it without having to make a spectacle of it."_

They sat quietly for a long moment. Her hands slid over the lace of the dress.

_"I had always wanted to get married," Katherine said absently._

"Where will you go?" Elena asked, changing the subject.

_"Where does anyone go? I don't know. It's dark there. Maybe it's hell. Or maybe it's heaven. Or maybe it's nothing at all. I can't be sure until I've arrived. All I just have to…let go. Let it be. Quite like putting a lovely gun to my temple and squeezing the trigger." _

"How do you do it?"

_"Like this, my sweet," Katherine whispered._

Elena strained, listening. She tensed, waiting for her body to convulse—waiting for something to happen. But there was nothing. Not a sound, not a tremble. Only silence. And perhaps that was what was the most telling of all. The nothingness. Katherine was no more. And yet, how could she be sure? Wasn't she sure last time? Perhaps not. She had always felt this pressure—a heavy load upon her shoulders since the exorcism. And perhaps that had been Katherine. Because here and now, that feeling was nowhere to be found. And Elena knew somehow that that feeling would never be coming back.

She bowed her and braced her arms on her knees for a moment. There was a soft knock on the door. Elena turned to see a plump, sweet faced woman. She was their non denominational pastor.

"Are you ready, sweetheart," she asked kindly.

Elena bowed her head and said nothing for a long minute, her fingers fiddling with a stray thread on her dress. She could feel the pastor becoming slightly uncomfortable in Elena's lack of response. She mustered up her energy and thought of Damon waiting for her.

She finally looked up at her.

"Yes," she managed to whisper.

* * *

'So this,' thought Damon, 'is what an angel looks like.'

She was a vision of lace with her dark ruby lips curled upward as she floated towards him. She held her bouquet of wildflowers—Cornflowers, Queen Anne's Lace, Lilacs, Roses and yes, Jasmine—tied with a loose ribbon and in between her clasped hands. She walked through the wooden pews until she was standing with Damon.

"Good afternoon. We are brought here today to celebrate the marital union of you, Elena Gilbert, and you, Damon Salvatore. Marriage is not to be entered lightly. It is a blessed union between two people that binds them to a pledge. It is a promise to hold your love sacred to one another. It's a promise to share your lives together. And it is also a promise to enrich each other's lives. This enables you both to share in your dreams, your hopes and your desires—even in time of uncertainty. This is why you are here today…and now you may recite your vows to one another."

Damon said nothing for a long moment. His hands clutched hers, his thumb sliding across her fingers. His eyes were warm as they swam into hers. He marveled at how this day had come into fruition.

"From the moment that I met you, I always knew that somehow that moment was going to define the rest of my life. And it hasn't steered me wrong. You are my reason for being. You, Elena, are my saving grace. Every moment with you is a moment that I want to remember for a lifetime. You are what I was always looking for when I didn't know I was looking for anything at all. I am honored and humbled to be called your husband. And I am the luckiest man on earth to call you my wife."

"From the moment I met you, I knew that there was something…there was something about you. Even when my eyes were averted, my mind always came back to you. I was in love with you even before I could admit it. You've saved me. I'm your saving grace? No. No, Damon, you're my saving grace in more ways than I can properly express. You are the most amazing man I have ever met. Every layer, every depth of your soul is an adventure that I look forward to discovering. I feel so incredibly blessed to be marrying you. And I am privileged to call myself your wife."

It was like hovering on the cusp of paradise. It was warm, inviting. And when they kissed, the entire world was hushed for a brief moment—a moment that belonged to only Damon and Elena. And finally, after all of the horrors and all of the tribulation, they were awarded happiness. They were husband and wife.

* * *

Damon carried her over the threshold of the Salvatore Boarding House.

"You are now the Lady of the Manor," he purred sarcastically as his mouth dipped to her neck, kissing her soundly. Damon set Elena onto her feet and slowly untied the blindfold that he had placed over her eyes.

Elena gasped with pleasure. The entire house was alight with candles and fresh flowers.

"Welcome home," he said softly, watching her.

Elena gathered the skirt of her lace gown into her hands as she walked around the room. Lilies, roses, lilacs, gardenias—they were everywhere. The house was consumed with the sweet scent of ripe blossoms. She turned back towards him with the sweetest smile on her face.

"Damon," she breathed, "this is beautiful."

He watched her with a selfish pleasure. The candles cast a golden glow across her skin and she looked like a goddess in lace. And the lace itself was like a gift wrapping to him—begging to be torn apart with eager hands as if it were Christmas morning. He could feel his body beginning to stir by just looking at her.

"Very," he agreed, though his mind was not on the flowers.

She moved towards him, her hands sliding up his chest and clutching his lapels.

"What are you thinking," her eyes danced.

"What do you think," he drawled.

Elena shrugged and bent her head back, her mouth turned upward. Damon bowed his neck down, his mouth fused over hers. His tongue roamed over hers like warm velvet and his hands slid across her waist and spanned the small of her back. He pressed her against into him, a low growl rumbling in his throat. His lips drifted to her cheek and he pressed her head with his and she automatically bent her neck to the side giving him access to her neck. As his fangs sunk through her skin and released her dark blood, his mind wandered back to the first time he had tasted her. She had been lying underneath him in a scant blank dress. And he had drunk from her with an undeniable thirst much like now. She was dying then and it was one of the most beautiful moments he'd ever experienced. And here now—another beautiful moment with his wife, his immortal Elena. She moaned and her fingers dug into his back, kneading into his skin over his dress shirt. She could feel the wetness of her blood as it dripped down her neck. She thought absently about her dress. Her hands slid up his chest and grabbed a fist full of his shirt. She pulled at it roughly, buttons tearing from their threads and onto the ground. She pushed the shirt apart, sliding her fingers over her chest. She bit into his arm, through his shirt, as her mouth was already lingering close while Damon drank from her. She tore through his skin brutally, ripping the remnants of cotton that stood between them. His blood dripped onto her tongue like thick syrup. Damon hissed and released his fangs from her throat and took hold of her shoulders. His mouth sought hers again and they kissed, their blood mingling on their lips and tongue. His worked quickly with the buttons on the back of her dress. And soon she wasn't wearing it at all. Damon gathered her in his arms and, quick as lightning and up the stairs, had her in bed. She unhooked her bra and threw it across the room. Damon shrugged off his ripped shirt. He unbuckled his pants and discarded them along with his boxers. Damon slid down her body, pulling her lace panties down her thighs and past her feet. He cupped her small foot in his hand and kissed the inside of her ankle. His hands massaged upward, cradling her calf and his tongue slid over her shin. He divided her legs and bent her knees—guiding them over his shoulders. He placed an open mouthed kiss at her inner thigh as he inched forward. He felt Elena shudder with anticipation. His mouth settled in between her legs, his tongue sliding across her clit—achingly slow. Elena arched slightly into him, but Damon grabbed her hip and pressed her back into the mattress. He savored her, he explored her folds, discovering with his mouth. And then he returned back again to clit, lapping at her with attentiveness. His tongue's pace began to quicken, flicking over her with the rapidity of a guitar strum. He pressed his hands in between the sheets and Elena, gripping her ass tightly. Elena threaded her hands in Damon's hair, her back arching and her neck thrown back.

"Oh God…"

He moaned appreciatively and slid his fingers passed her warm folds and inside of her wet slit. He felt her tense almost instantly, her body beginning to tremble. A heat began to intensify between Elena's legs and she felt a warm ball of pleasure building inside of her. The pressure began to mount and mount and mount…and suddenly, all at once, it melted away—Damon had stopped. He lifted his face, her juices glistening on his chin, and looked up at her. She was outraged.

"Damon, don't stop!"

She tried to press his head towards her, but he shifted away, smiling wickedly. Damon climbed up and positioned himself on top of Elena. He took his hard, thick arousal in his hand and positioned it at her opening. He rubbed it back and forth, stimulating her clit. And then suddenly, he slid inside, pressing himself deep in her. Elena cried out, her hands gripping his shoulder blades. Damon let out a ragged moan, trying to restrain himself from selfishly putting his pleasure forefront. And so his pace was slow, he began rebuilding that wonderful pressure that had been forming inside of her. Elena hooked her arms under his, curling her hands onto his shoulders. She bit lightly into his collarbone, moaning softly. Damon reached his head downward and nudged Elena's face upward. He claimed her kiss and gave her his. His tongue sought, claimed and delved into Elena's welcoming mouth. She nipped at his tongue and he bit her lip in kind. His speed began to quicken as he pressed into and nearly withdrew from her body's tight and moist embrace. His arms circled behind her shoulders, pressing his chest to hers. Any gallant ideas he had left of forgoing his pleasure first had evaporated. Instinct had taken hold and gratification became his body's primary objective. He could feel Elena's thighs shaking as she squeezed them into his sides. He couldn't possibly have been harder nor more turned on in this moment—she was his. This would be his for the eternity and he reveled in it. She reveled in it. And as they reached the pinnacle of pleasure, they bit into each other's throats—pleasure pouring from their throats and radiating in between their legs. They couldn't have been more satisfied.

Later, with Damon sleeping, Elena had slid downstairs to retrieve her wedding gown. There it lay—across the living room floor in a beautiful heap. She lifted it and saw the dark stain of blood that had poured into the sleeve. Normally, she imagined that she would have been upset. Her fingers drifted over the stain lovingly—a garnet bloom borne in the heightened throws of passion. She wouldn't wash it, no. It would be a visual reminder of the nights that they became animals, enthralled in the embrace of love and lust for one another. As she stood there, thinking on this, she shut her eyes. She was becoming aroused with a memory only hours old. Her eyes opened and drifted towards the stairs, thinking of Damon asleep in their bed. _Their_ bed. How far they had come. She was no longer that scared, cancer ridden girl on his doorstep. She was a strong and dangerous woman. A vampire. It was a powerful feeling. She pressed the dress to her as she walked slowly up the stairs. And when she would get back into the room, she would crawl into bed and awaken Damon with her mouth. He belonged to her. And although she knew that she had his heart in her hands, she also knew that he had hers in kind. Elena had never quite grasped the concept of destiny but she felt sure that this was meant to be.

* * *

Elena would never mention her final stand with Katherine to Damon. She would never utter her name or think too long on her. She would always have a dull ache inside of her whenever Katherine crossed her mind. Not so much that she missed her, but perhaps because her soul knew that a piece of itself would always be missing—lost into the darkness.

Damon never spoke of Katherine either. And if she crossed his thoughts, it was a mild mixture of pity and contempt. He would always feel the need to hold Elena close at those times. He would pull her against his chest, her hands running through her hair. He marveled at every moment he had with her. She had indeed tamed the beast inside of him. And although he had never quite let go of his instinctual ruthlessness, Elena created a calm in him that he had never before experienced. Enduring over a hundred years of misery was worth it, when he could spend an eternity of happiness with Elena. No longer cold and no longer cruel, he was finally happy. They were finally happy.

Fin.

_A/N: I began this story over 8 months ago. I didn't know where it was headed and was going with the flow. And while I may have taken an unorthodox approach to this fanfic, I am generally pleased with how it came out. I want to thank everyone that took the time to read this—even those who only read the first chapter. I appreciate every praise and criticism that I've received. So thank you very much—we are all kindred spirits in our admiration for Damon and Elena. This is not my last Vampire Diaries fanfic. I have plans for more D/E fic as well as others. Again—thank you J_


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